


The Heat of War

by Kattyb



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-05 17:43:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 78,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4189026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kattyb/pseuds/Kattyb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick O'Carroll seemed to be just a normal soldier. But as his friends knew, he wasn't. In fact, he wasn't even a he. Her name is Bridget O'Carroll and this is the story of her time as a paratrooper in the 101st Airborne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Curhahee

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a story that I had worked on years ago and posted onto fanfiction.net Now I'm working on editing it and posting it here.
> 
> As a disclaimer, this is based on the miniseries and is not at all meant to be disrespectful to the real men and heroes of Easy Company.

"You people are at the position of attention!" The sharp yell led to everyone quickly snapping into position. Donald Malarkey managed to give a quick reassuring smile to O'Carroll who was standing behind him before Lt. Sobel walked by. It had been only seven days, but Sobel's chickenshit had already brought the company together in its hatred towards him. It was bad enough that already they were starting to feel like a family and O'Carroll was the baby sister.

She was born in Eugene, Oregon with the name of Bridget O'Carroll. As it was during the time, she was expected to grow up and be exactly like her mother; a housewife in every sense of the word. Bridget wanted more than that, though. She refused to be stuck with that life simply because she was a woman.

From a guy in town, Bridget heard about the paratroopers. You had to be in top physical condition, which she was considering on her spare time she ran, so that wouldn't stop her. Her only problem was that she had no balls. Literally. Women weren't allowed in the military outside of clerical work and nurses and things of that nature. Bridget knew the importance of these jobs, but what she wanted was to fight.

It wasn't too difficult; living in a small town many who knew Bridget and how that she didn't fit in with the life set in front of her, were willing to help. So, she cut off all of her hair and had the doctor forge her papers. In no time, she was on her way to basic training as Patrick O'Carroll, taking her brother's name, a 4-F who was an alcoholic that didn't even want to go to fight in the first place.

Donald Malarkey was the man in the bunk next to hers. Both being from Oregon, the two bonded instantly and became fast friends. Unavoidably, he was the first person who learned her secret and he swore to not tell a soul. It was at least five days before Bridget told anyone else and it was then quick to spread through the rest of Easy Company so that almost everyone knew; except the commissioned officers because if Sobel ever found out... Bridget knew that the consequences would be nothing good.

Bridget could feel her shirt sticking to her back, and even though she didn't regret her decision to do this, the sweltering heat of  Toccoa, Georgia made days like this miserable. And now here was Sobel was walking around, making it even worse. He was doing a daily inspection, examining everyone, trying to find the smallest of infractions to take away weekend passes for. He spotted his first victim and stopped in front of Frank Perconte. Perconte's infraction? Creases on the bottom of his trousers, apparently he had been blousing them like a paratrooper, which they weren't yet.  Next was George Luz, another one of the men that Bridget considered a friend. Somehow, he had dirt in his gun even though Bridget knew for a fact he didn't. Along with Malarkey, they had just spent the last hour or so cleaning their guns and inspecting them for each other. For Carwood Lipton, his infraction was a single loose thread on his chevrons. These were the kinds of chickenshit things Sobel would pick out and punish someone for. Normally, she wouldn't have let this kind of thing stand, Bridget had often been known for her quick temper. In this situation however, she knew it was better to just bite her tongue and say nothing. She was risking her life to be here so she could travel across whichever ocean and risk her life further, no sense in tempting fate by drawing attention to herself.

Malarkey was his next victim. Bridget watched with concern as she could see her friend take a deep breath, preparing himself for what was coming.

"Name?" Sobel barked as he searched the man for some infraction.

"Malarkey, Donald G. sir!"

"Malarkey? Malarkey's slang for bullshit, isn't it?" Sobel asked as he took Don's gun from him.

"Yessir!" The private responded without hesitation. Don knew better than to talk back to Sobel and besides, Malarkey really was slang for bullshit.

"Rust on the butt plate hinge spring, Private Bullshit; revoked." O'Carroll's jaw twitched. Speaking of malarkey... Perhaps Sobel noticed the subtle look, because his next stop was right in front of Bridget. Her expression turned into a cold glare as she stared him down. "Name?"

"O'Carroll, Patrick." Bridget tilted her head slightly and added with a bitter tone, "Sir." He yanked the gun from her hands and examined it. Sobel took the clip out, looked inside for a brief moment and then replaced it, returning her glare.

"Well O'Carroll, Patrick, there is dirt inside here; pass revoked." As he began to walk away, Bridget spoke up despite her better judgment.

"Permission to speak sir." He turned around, facing her again as did almost everyone else in the company. In the week they had been there, not one person had dared to speak up before.

"Denied. And your weekend passes for the next month are revoked for speaking out of turn during inspection." He turned to walk away when Bridget spoke up yet again.

"If I may, sir, it is not probable for there to be any dirt in or on my gun considering I have cleaned it ten times this morning including once just before coming here." Sobel stormed back towards O'Carroll, getting right in her face. She didn't flinch or let any fear show though her heart felt as though it was beating like a drum.

"Want to repeat that, soldier?" He snarled, spit hitting Bridget's face and as tempting as it was, she refrained from reaching up to wipe it away.

"I said, sir, that it was not probable for there to be dirt anywhere on this gun having cleaned it multiple times just this morning. And if I was to look at it now, I am positive I would find nothing, sir." He took a deep breath, rage showing in every feature of his face. Bridget was terrified, now she had done it. Seven days in and she had already ruined her chances to stay in the paratroopers. There was no way he wasn't going to kick her out after this. They stayed like that for almost a minute, though it felt like so much longer to Bridget, until his eyes shifted past her to someone standing nearby. Sobel suddenly grabbed her gun and inspected it once again. He looked once more back toward the barracks.

"You're right, soldier." As Sobel's gaze returned to Bridget, his hatred had somehow increased ten-fold. He forced the gun back into her arms. "Your month's weekend passes are no longer revoked." She sucked in a deep breath as he stalked away towards Joseph Liebgott, someone he would undoubtedly take his frustration out on. Bridget's knees went weak and she could barely stand. She was sure she had gone too far right then and there. With a quick glance behind her, she saw what Sobel had been looking at. Standing there watching Sobel's every move, was Colonel Sink. It seemed as though Sobel didn't want Col. Sink to jump in while he was wrong.

When Sobel began addressing the entire company, her attention snapped forward once again. In his hand was a bayonet he held it up for all of them to see.

"I wouldn't take this rusty piece of shit to war and I will not take you to war in your condition." He threw the blade to the ground so it could dig into the grass.  "Now, thanks to these men and their infractions, every man in the company who had a weekend pass, has lost it." Sobel paused just long enough to sneer at O'Carroll, letting her know that this was a grudge that was going to last long past today. "Change into your PT gear, we're running Curhahee." Bridget groaned slightly as Lt.,Richard Winters, told the men to fall out. Running Curhahee always took a toll on her, more than it did the others. As they jogged back toward the barracks, Bridget suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked quickly to see Malarkey jogging next to her.

"Well, the shit really almost hit the fan there, Bridget. Couldn't keep your mouth shut for ten minutes?" He laughed as we slowed to a walk to enter the barracks.

"Patrick, you have to call me Patrick. Can't risk a commanding officer hear my name." She huffed loudly, how many times would she have to tell these boys she could die if she was found out? "The only reason he didn't drop me right then and there was because Sink was watching. And in the end, he still got my weekend pass, damn bastard." She scoffed unhappily as she quickly began to change. At this point, all of the guys already had their backs turned towards her as she changed in the corner by her bed, right where no one outside could see her. This was a habit they had already fallen into the moment they found out. Before then, Bridget had done her best to change shirts without anyone noticing. Bridget quickly finished changing and sat down on her bunk to put her boots back on. She couldn't help but to cringe slightly from the length of the hair on her legs. Despite not wanting to be forced into a traditional role for a women, she had always still embraced her femininity. Yet here, she was not allowed the pleasures of being a women, not even something as simple as shaving her legs. "The worst part is that now he absolutely hates me and that isn't going away anytime soon." She lightly touched Malarkey's arm so that he knew she was finished dressing.

Malarkey laughed as he sat down next to her. "Don't worry, he hates us all." And at that, shouts of 'Ain't that the truth' and laughter filled the room. "See? Now come on, Princess, we have a mountain to run."

"Call me that again and I will kill you." Despite her words, there was the slightest smile on Bridget's face. While she protested, she actually didn't mind the nickname all that much.

"Whoa-o-o now. Save that anger for Jerry." Donald chuckled as he place a hand on Bridget's shoulder. "The Krauts deserve it more, don't you think?"

"That they do." Bridget nodded in agreement. "Thinking they could take over the world. We'll show them." She smiled softly as Malarkey gave her shoulder a final squeeze before moving his hand away from her. At that moment, George Luz came up to and sat on the bed in front of the two friends.

"Princess, this guy ain't bothering you is he?" Luz smirked and finished tying his own boots.

"No but you are." Bridget shook her head. "I'm telling you, you guys keep calling me Princess and Sobel is going to figure out I'm a woman."

"You my friend are paranoid. Soldiers give nicknames like Princess all the time. He'll think it's just because of your delicate features." Luz winked. "Also, you are giving Sobel far too much credit, I'm thinking."

"If you put yourself in my sho-" Luz cut Bridget off before she could finish the complaint.

"No, listen, you have it down pat. Nobody's gonna suspect you're a woman.  No make-up, short hair, unshaven legs..."

"Shut up, Luz."

"I didn't even believe it until I saw the cloth holding her-"

"Malarkey! Shut up!" Bridget's face was now a bright shade of red from anger and embarrassment. Fortunately for the two men, it was then that Carwood Lipton entered the room to get the men up and going.

E Company  jogged past a group of taunting Company D men and headed towards Curhahee.

* * *

 

As they ran up the mountain, Malarkey constantly glanced at O'Carroll. He knew the run was a little rougher on her than most of the others and he couldn't help but worry. It was in his nature and while it annoyed her  slightly, she also appreciated it. She was strong, but the run was three miles up and three miles back down in a total of 50 minutes. Not an easy run, but for O'Carroll, having Malarkey there made it easier. His breathing helped her keep hers regulated and his whispered words of encouragement pushed her harder. On this particular run, Sobel was running next to the group she was in, unnerving for Bridget considering what had just occurred. Suddenly Warren 'Skip' Muck, one of Marlark's friends, stepped in a ditch and twisted his ankle. Malarky and Bridget were quick to reach for him and so Sobel had his chance to yell at her.

"Do not help that man! Do not help him. We do not stop." Sobel ran further ahead  before yelling what the men had started to joke was his mating call; "High-Ho Silver!" The moment he wasn't looking at them, O'Carroll and Malark both moved to help Muck.

"You can run with us today, we won't let you hurt that ankle anymore." Don spoke softly to the other man. Muck nodded as he tried to hide the pain that came with each limping stride he made. Bridget glanced up just in time to see Sobel take his usual shortcut to the top and a swell of anger filled up within her. How was it that Muck had to suffer while he got the easy way out?

They continued up the mountain, but now that they were practically carrying Muck between the two of them, O'Carroll was beginning to have trouble keeping her breathing steady. Despite Malarkey being there, her own training hadn't prepared her for something like this. As they slowly neared the top, Bridget could see Winters encouraging some of the other men before he started the run down. It wasn't too long before he was running towards the trio. He took one look at Bridget and Malarkey on either side of Skip, holding him up, and he saw O'Carroll struggling.

When Winters reached them, he gently moved Bridget out of the way, "Let me in here O'Carroll." He took her place of holding up Muck and the group continued running towards the top with their new companion. With renewed vigor, it wasn't too long before they reached the top. Winters being there seemed to inspire them to go faster.

"Lt. Winters, I see you're back." Sobel sneered a little and Winters only let out a deep breath and a nod as the four of them touched the marker. Bridget looked up briefly to see Sobel was not glaring at her, but rather Winters. She let a smile escape. It seemed as though she wasn't the only one Sobel absolutely hated. They turned and went back down the mountain.

* * *

 

Marches, night marches, and even more marches. Discussion of how Sobel hated Easy Company was even reaching the ears of Winters. He doesn't hate Easy Company; just the individuals. By now, O'Carroll had often had latrine duty since she had stood up to him, even just for the smallest of infractions. He hated the individuals of Easy Company but he loathed her. It was another night march and Bridget spotted Pat Christenson taking another sip of his water.

"Damn it, Christenson," she muttered to him. "You know we were ordered to not drink from our canteens! Sobel is going to have your ass for this."

"I know, I know." Pat groaned in return. "But this machine gun is really fucking heavy, alright?" Bridget held her hand out toward him, gesturing for the canteen.

"Let me see that thing, Pat." He handed the canteen over to her.

"You can drink as much as you want since I've already drank too much from it. Just remember to give it back." Unscrewing the top, O'Carroll slung her gun over her shoulder and then took out her own canteen. She quickly unscrewed the second canteen and with a steady hand poured some of her water into his. Christenson looked from her hands up to her face and back to her hands, surprise and confusion on his face.

"Wh- What? Why?"

"Now, hopefully, he won't notice, and if he does, he'll send me too since we have the same amount. You wouldn't have to go alone. You'll need someone to stop your stupid ass from drinking." She handed him back his canteen and put her own away. "Try not to drink anymore, we're almost done." Bridget unslung her gun and held it to her shoulder again.

"Damn it O'Carroll," She heard Malarkey whisper in her other ear.  "Sobel doesn't need a reason to punish you more, you shouldn't have done that." Bridget glanced back at Christenson.

"I had to." She turned back to Malarkey and smiled. "I'll be fine, no worries." Past Malarky, she could see Winters marching nearby, watching everything that had just happened.

* * *

 

"Pour 'em." The sound of water beating against the ground filled the air. Sobel looked around and zeroed in on the two canteens that had stopped pouring. He was there in a flash.

"Who is this? Christenson. And O'Carroll, why am I not surprised." He looked at her with disgust. "Why is there no water in your canteens? You drank from your canteen didn't you?" Christenson tried to speak up.

"Sir, I-"

"Lt. Winters!" Sobel shouted in Bridget's face.

"Yes sir."

"Were these men ordered not to drink from their canteens during the Friday night march?"

"They were, sir."

"Privates Christenson and O'Carroll you have disobeyed a direct order. You will fill your canteens and are to repeat all 12 miles of the march immediately." For a brief moment, a smirk filled Sobel's face as he stared down at Bridget. She ground her teeth together before speaking.

"Yes sir."

"Fall out!" Christenson and O'Carroll walked to the spicket to fill their canteens. Bridget glanced over to see Sobel talking to Winters before he would let the company go. She filled her canteen and then gulped the water down. Christenson looked at her and then did the same. Silently the two refilled their canteens once more and then started off.

It was ten minutes into the march before either of them said a word."Thank you." Pat looked over at Bridget.

"No need to thank me, you still have to do the march again." She groaned and shifted the weight of her gun. Tomorrow was going to be awful after 24 miles of marching in the middle of the night.

"But now I'm not alone, so thank you." There was silence again."Malarkey looked like he wanted to kill me." Christenson laughed as he relaxed his grip on the machine gun. No one was watching them now, they could relax a little.

"Yeah... he can be a little overprotective sometimes." Bridget laughed and wiped some of the sweat from her face.

"Yeah just a little." He chuckled again. "A lot of us are, for you." Bridget's face turned a bright shade of red, masked by the darkness.

"I can take care of myself."

"Oh trust me, we know. It's just," he paused, attempting to find the right words in order to not offend her further. "You're like a sister to us, is what I mean. A brother is always protective of his sister, even if she could kick his ass." She smiled, knowing it was meant to be a compliment of sorts. "Malarkey though, man is he over the top protective." Bridget shifted a little. That was something she had noticed as well, but had chosen to ignore.

"It's just in his nature." She shrugged as much as the gun would allow her to. "He's like that about his friends."

"If you say so."

"I do." They were silent the rest of the march.

* * *

 

"What on earth were you thinking, Bridget?" It was nearly morning now that she had finished the march and Don had stayed awake the entire time only to start scolding her the moment she walked back into the barracks. That was the last thing she needed right now. All she wanted to do was sleep.

"Malark..." She was hoping to stop him from waking up anyone else, but she could already see them stirring.

"You weren't! You and all of your damn compassion. We're in the military now, you can't just do things like that."

"Malarkey..." The other men in the barracks were now sitting up in their beds to look at the two of them.

"How could you do something like that? You know Sobel already hates you, why would you give him a reason to punish you?"

"Donald, shut the fuck up!" Bridget finally snapped and he stopped, stunned. Everybody dropped down again, pretending to be asleep; but Bridget knew they were listening and at that moment , she couldn't care less. "I knew what I was doing. I'm not a baby, dammit!"

"I'm just trying to make sure nothing happens to you."

"Something is bound to happen to me, Don, I mean we are going to war for Chrissake!" O'Carroll scoffed as she quickly began changing into her sleeping clothes, hoping that she would still get at least get an hour of sleep after ending this argument. Don averted his eyes quickly, a gesture that only served to irritate her further at the moment. "If I were a man, you wouldn't be acting like this! So stop thinking of me as some girl you need to protect!"

"I don't think of you as a girl..."

"Bullshit."

"I think of you as a woman, one who could kick my ass." He muttered softly.

"Well, stop." She turned and got into her bed. "I am a soldier just like you and if you thinking of me as a woman is stopping you from treating me like that, then don't think of me as a woman." Bridget turned her back to him, not sure she would actually be able to sleep now.

"I'm not sure I can..." He said, even softer than before as he climbed into his own bed. She didn't acknowledge it however, she had enough with fighting for now.

* * *

 

After the night of the march, things had been different between Malarkey and O'Carroll. She was colder towards him, not willing to let it all go so easily. She spent more time with Luz and Bill Guarnere on her weekends off instead of Don and when they were around each other, there was enough tension that it made everyone else uneasy. Despite her stubbornness though, Bridget truly missed her friend. It had been weeks now and she wasn't sure she couldn't handle more of Sobel's bullshit without a best friend to bitch about it to. It was that revelation that lead her to warm back up and accept his apology that had been in the form of finally not treating her as though she was a porcelain doll. And so, to the relief of just about everyone, the two were friends again.

Training, more training, jumping from fake planes, obstacle courses, crawling under barbed wire in trenches filled with pig guts. Easy Company went through it all. Bridget found herself in more pain than ever before but she was also faster and stronger. And she was making an impact on the others. Word spread about how she had tried to help Christenson during the night march and other men began going out of their way to support their comrades. Like when Gordon had to run Curhahee, three others _chose_ to go with him. They didn't have to, but now Gordon didn't have to do the run alone. The family bond was growing stronger.

At one point, much to the disbelief and despair of everyone, Sobel got promoted to Captain. Winters had been promoted as well, something that everyone found acceptable except for Sobel. So, as was his way, he punished all of them for it. Sobel went through a random inspection of the barracks and Bridget had thanked God that anything that could have given her away was well hidden. One of these boys had even thrown a Titter magazine in her footlocker for in case this ever happened. Sure, it was contraband, but it would do wonders on throwing off any suspicions of her. The best part, as Bridget had heard told from a man lurking outside of the barracks, as part of the inspection, Sobel found a can of peaches. He asked officers Winters and Lewis what it was.

"A can of peaches." Nixon had replied.

"Wrong." Said Sobel and he went on to say that it was actually United States property. News of that incident spread quickly. The next day when Sobel stepped out of his quarters he found a tall stack of Peach cans with a note saying:

_No matter what you say, they are still peaches._

O'Carroll knew that Luz had something to do with that, in fact, she may have had a hand in setting it all up, but to anyone who asked, she denied it. Of course, as a response everyone's weekend passes were revoked, but it had been well worth it to see the look on his face. And then there was the spaghetti. No one in their right mind would say that it was actual spaghetti, but it was still better than what the mess hall usually had to serve. In addition to that, Easy Company was told that they would have the afternoon off so everyone was were packing it down, feeling happier and better than they had in a while. That was until Sobel  came in yelling that once again, they were running Curhahee. All of the food that they had been stuffing down, was now being thrown back up as they ran up the mountain. No one was happy, no one was feeling good. This was Sobel's revenge. And Winters knew that. In no time, he was there to support the company as he always was. He was the only officer that Easy could truly look up to at that time. He started the company singing and there was a renewal of energy from all of the men. Sobel just stared, unable to comprehend how Winters had come out on top once again.

* * *

 

To become a true certified paratrooper, the soldiers had to do five plane jumps. When she had first signed up for the paratroopers, Bridget had been thrilled by the idea of jumping out of a plane, but now that she was on the plane for the first jump, She was nothing less than terrified. So many things could go wrong. Her chute could not deploy or, worse, she could chicken out at the door and get sent home. All of this training would mean nothing. Malark  sensed that and put his hand on hers, rubbing it with his thumb inconspicuously.

"You got this, Bridget." He said just loud enough for her to hear him. She nodded  as they stood up, hooking their lines to the wire. They ran a quick equipment check and soon they got the green light. One after another the people in front of her jumped out of the plane. Soon, she was standing at the door. There was no turning back now.

"Go!" Their instructor shouted in her ear over the roaring wind and so she jumped out the door.

Bridget felt as though she was flying and it was the most amazing feeling she had ever felt. It was freeing and the adrenaline pumping through her veins left her with a giddy feeling. She let out a whoop as she floated toward the ground. She rolled as she landed, as they had been taught, and quickly rolled up her chute. She looked around for Malarkey and ran over to where he was now landing.

"We did it!" Bridget cheered as she climbed under the chute that Malarkey was having difficulty getting out of. With the adrenaline still rushing through her she threw her arms around him in a hug before he had a chance to speak. Surprise showed on his face as his cheeks flushed red. Still, he hugged her back and they stayed like that for a moment longer before pulling apart and crawling out from under the chute. Their hearts still hammering in their chests, but no longer just because of the jump.

* * *

 

Alcohol was everywhere and Bridget was doing her best to avoid it all. It wouldn't be a celebration if she was found out. And it was indeed a celebration. They were paratroopers now. No longer would they have to run Curhahee if they didn't want to. Basic training was over. On the downside, Sobel would still be Easy's commanding officer, but nobody wanted to think about that tonight.

Luz carried a beer over to her from the bar. "One drink won't kill you." He said as he put it in front of O'Carroll. "I can be your designated sober person to make sure nothing happens so, drink." So much for avoiding alcohol, but he was right. One drink wouldn't hurt. Although judging by the other beer in his hand, she was not going to trust him as her sober person.

"Thanks." She took a sip of the beer, savoring it.

"And try not to look so depressed, alright?" He reached over as though to dust off her new chevrons. "At this rate you could command Sobel, Sergeant. Congrats on your promotion."

"Thanks. Wouldn't that be great though?" Bridget finally laughed and smiled at him. "Make that bastard run Curhahee full gear because he looked at me wrong."

"That would be a great thing to see. But... on the downside, I kind of hate that I have to salute you."

"You'll get over it."

"Probably. Enjoy yourself now."

"Will do." And how could she not? Toccoa had been where she had found her family, but more than anything, she was ready to leave and actually get to fighting the war she had signed up for.


	2. Sobel's Leaving

Bridget shifted slightly trying to get a little more comfortable. Everyone had their eyes and ears open for any sign of the enemy. There was nothing but complete silence, however. That was until Sobel started whispering for the map. She looked at Malarkey and they gave each other knowing glances; he was going to get them killed. Everyone could tell they were in the perfect position for an ambush, but Sobel was going to make them move. Even Winters went to him and tried to convince him to stay put, but soon they were given the order to move out.

"Dammit." Bridget muttered under her breath. She wasn't the only one murmuring in disbelief as they gathered their things. Silently, the company made its way towards the enemy territory. And then, a large group of men popped up from the brush with their guns trained on Easy. Bridget sighed in defeat as they all lowered their guns. 95% of the company would have died if this had been a real combat situation. The training officer asked Sobel for what outfit they were and told him to leave 3 'wounded' men on the ground while the rest went back to base. Once again, Easy Company had failed and it was all due to Sobel.

They were in North Carolina now. Maybe they had finished their basic training and were officially paratroopers now, but they still had a ways to go before they could drop into Europe. As the months went on here, situations like this were common. Time and time again they would fail exercises and time and time again it was because of Sobel's inadequacy to lead in the field.

As September grew closer, Easy Company and the rest of the 101st was getting ready to move out once again. Just about no one knew where they were going yet as they packed up their things. Another base? Another country? They could only make guesses, but most hoped for the latter.

"I can't believe we're going to be going to war with that man, he's going to get us killed." Bridget groaned as she threw her sparse belongings into a bag. She, just like everyone else, was talking about Sobel. "How many times would we have died just this past month because of him?"

"Too many." Don shook his head with a low grumble. "I swear I could do a better job than that man."

"And that is saying something." Bridget flashed a quick grin at Don who only rolled his eyes at her.

"Well, he needs to get taken care of before we actually die. I'd rather him die than all of us." One of the other soldiers spoke up, joining their conversation. Talk like this was very common among the men. Bridget looked over and shook her head. Everybody was serious when they said they wanted him dead and as much as she hated the man, she was not a fan of the idea for many reasons. Mostly, she knew the trouble it could cause all of them.

"There's gotta be another way besides killing him."

"Then what do you propose we do?"

"I don't know yet, but we need to figure out something soon. Sobel is sending letters to all of our parents so it's getting closer to that time where we're not training, we're fighting." Everyone shifted uncomfortably. They all wanted to fight, that was why they were here, but no one wanted to think about what could happen if they went to fight with Sobel.

"Well, I still say we knock him off the boat into whichever ocean we're gonna be crossing. Save a lot of lives if we do." There was a short lull in the conversation, most people nodding their heads in agreement.

"I wonder where we are going." Another voice piped up and the rest of the men visually relaxed at the change in topic.

"Away." Luz was quick to respond, chuckling as he did.

"No shit, Sherlock. I meant Atlantic or Pacific."

"It's Atlantic." Bridget answered, actually knowing the answer to this. "I overheard when they were telling Nixon." She finally finished packing her bag and set it aside so she could fix her uniform and make sure her cover was on her head straight. "We get to take on good ol'Adolf himself."

"See, now that's an actual good answer. Thank you, O'Carroll."

"I have my moments." She winked with a click of her tongue. Right at that moment, Lipton leaned in.

"Ok men, get moving, we are moving out shortly." He left and everyone moved to pick up their things and head out to the trucks. As Bridget threw her bag onto one of the trucks, she overheard the group nearby having the same conversation about Sobel that she had just been having.

"He's probably right." She said with a sigh and leaned up against the truck.

"Who is?" Don threw his bag in with hers and leaned next to her, their shoulders just barely touching.

"Cobb," Bridget nodded her head toward the to the group she had been listening to. "He said that either the Krauts will get Sobel, or we will."

"At this point, I'm thinking the only real question people have is who is going to get the honor." He shrugged and looked over at her. "I think everyone's mind  is set that Sobel's gotta go."

"I get it. And I mean, I know I would like to kill the bastard myself." Bridget chuckled and rubbed her temple. "But there has to be another way to get rid of him without anyone dying."

"All right men, get your asses onto the trucks, we have a train we have to catch." A commander yelled and the two friends pulled away from the truck to climb onto it.

"Yeah, well if you think of anything, you let me know, alright?" Don said as he helped her up and the two sat down on one of the hard benches. "In the meantime, avoid standing near Sobel, just in case someone tries something. I'd hate to see you die because of that son of a bitch."

* * *

 

Bridget's information was right it turned out. They took a train to New York and then were on a boat heading across the Atlantic towards England.

"Hey, guys, I'm glad I'm going to Europe." Joe Toye said as he pulled out a knife. "Hitler gets one of these right across the windpipe. Roosevelt changes Thanksgiving to Joe Toye Day, and pays me 10 grand a year for the rest of my fucking life."

Bridget let out a laugh."Keep on dreaming, Toye." She swiftly climbed onto the bunk next to Malarkey. "It's always good to have an entirely unrealistic view of your abilities sometimes."

"Eh, fuck you O'Carroll." He grumbled, not entirely amused.

"No, thank you. I'll pass." She pulled out a Time magazine to begin perusing.

"What if we don't get to Europe? What if they send us to North Africa?" A voice on the bunk above them spoke.

"My brother is in North Africa, he says its hot." Guarnere said, taking a break from his Lucky Strikes. Don and Bridget glanced at each other for a moment before staring incredulously at the back of Bill's head.

"Really?" The sarcasm was already dripping from Malarkey's voice and Bridget had to cover her mouth to stop from laughing. "It's hot in Africa?"

"Shut up." Bill scoffed out a laugh before continuing talking. "The point is, it don't matter where we go. Once we get into combat, the only person you can trust is yourself and the fella next to you." Bridget nodded in agreement. War was war, no matter where it was fought and so that always remained true.

"Hey, as long as he's a paratrooper."

"Oh yeah? And what if that paratrooper turns out to be Sobel?" Luz added, of course bringing attention to the elephant in the room. No one had pushed him off the ship yet and so it was looking more and more like they would be fighting with him.

"If I'm next to Sobel in combat, I'm moving on down the line. Hook up with some other officer like... Heyliger or Winters." Bridget nodded in agreement as Pat spoke, even though she knew that wasn't exactly a plausible solution for everyone.

Bill, on the other hand, shook his head."I like Winters, he's a good man. But when the bullets start flying, I don't know if I want a Quaker doing my fighting for me."

"How do you know he's a Quaker?" Muck was leaning down to join in the conversation. Malarkey reached for his cigarette and took a drag before offering it to Bridget, knowing she wouldn't accept.  O'Carroll who was quick to refuse. She didn't smoke.

"He ain't Catholic."

"Neither's Sobel."

"That prick's the Son of Abraham."

"He's what?" Joseph Liebgott shot in from across the narrow aisle.

"He's a Jew." Sometimes, Guarnere didn't know when to shut his mouth. Bridget sighed and sat up on the bunk, knowing this could get ugly. Her concern was only validated when Liebgott cursed and jumped down from his bunk, getting right in Guarnere's face.

"I'm a Jew." Liebgott was one of the few in the company who was.

"Congratulations," Bill pushed him back. "Get your nose out of my face." And that was the final straw. A punch was thrown and the two men began fighting. Everyone worked to pull the two apart and Bridget was the one who finally jumped between the two stopping their fists.

"Guarnere, stop being such a jackass." She warned, a sharpness in her eyes letting him know she was serious.

"Bridget, he was in my face."

"I don't care, you egged him on. And you," Bridget now turned on Liebgott. Until that point, Liebgott had been smiling smugly at the reprimand that she was giving to Bill. His smile faded as she spoke to him, however. "All he was saying was that Sobel was Jewish. He may have been a dick in the way he was saying it, but that's just how Guarnere is so get the fuck over it. None of us like Sobel, but we're stuck with him so deal with it." All he did was nod and took a step back. "God, you would think you guys were two years old." With a loud huff, she lay back down next to Malark.

"Good going." He chuckled as she picked back up her magazine. "You certainly have a way with these guys."

"Oh, do I now?" Bridget looked over at the two men who, while still throwing angry glances at each other, were no longer fighting. "I guess it's just my special ability." They both laughed, and she thumbed through a few more pages before looking at him. "Wait a moment. These guys, huh? Are you saying it doesn't work on you?"

"Oh,  hell no." Don snorted and rolled over to lay on his back and close his eyes. "I think you've got me under your thumb worst of all, Princess."

Bridget chuckled with a shake of her head and returned to her reading, albeit a little more distracted than before.

* * *

 

England was cold and damp. Which Bridget loved. It was something familiar to her in comparison to the suffocating humidity and heat that they had been dealing with since she left Oregon. The only downside is that they were still doing even more training. They were working with weapons out in the field and learning about trenches and different aspects of flying. They also were still having exercises that Sobel managed to screw up on. The days off weren't much better for Bridget either. For the most part, she simply stayed in the house she was quartered in. She didn't really want to risk going to the bars, sticking to the whole avoiding alcohol thing, and she didn't want to have to explain to someone who didn't know why exactly she had no interest in the local English girls, the ones who hung all over the Americans, like everyone else did.

During one particular training exercise, Sobel was wearing the a nice leather jacket he had gotten from God knows where. And he had gotten them lost. Again. Not that that was much of a surprise. It was so common, in fact, that Tipper stood near him at all times with the map. So, when they reached a fence that was not supposed to be there, he yelled for Tipper, who was standing right next to him. before sending the rest to stand behind some trees. Perco and Muck managed to convince Luz to imitate Major Horton  in an attempt to get everyone moving again.

"Is there a problem, Captain Sobel?" They were all giggling like a bunch of children as Sobel yelled back, wanting to know who was talking. There was silence for a moment. "What is the goddammned holdup, Mr. Sobel?"

"Uh a fence sir," more giggles at his stuttering. "A barbed wire fence."

"Oh, that dog just ain't gonna hunt!" Bridget had to hide her face against Luz's arm to stop herself from laughing too loud and he was quick to shush her, not wanting to get caught. "Now, you cut that fence and get this goddamned platoon on the move!"

"Yes sir!"As Sobel turned to get the fence taken care of, they all burst out into laughter. Thankfully, it wasn't loud enough for Sobel to hear.

That was the popular topic of discussion the next day. Those who weren't there asked to hear the story again and again and those that were there had no problem telling them, adding embellishments as they went.

"You should have seen how flustered he was." Perco was too busy laughing to keep a hold of the basketball so Malarkey easily took it from him.

"And then he got so much shit from Strayer for cutting that fence. I think that's my favorite part." Bridget wasn't paying much attention to their game either. Not that it mattered because soon, a jeep was driving up right where they were playing.

The group watched as Evans, Sobel's right hand man made his way to Winters. "I think Winters is about to get the heat from Sobel." Evans handed a letter to other man before saluting and getting back into the car. As he drove off, Bull threw the ball of the back of the truck and most of them continued the game. Bridget kept her eyes on Winters, however, as he read the letter and scoffed.

"He misspelled Courts-Martial ." Nixon pointed out just loud enough that she could hear. Bridget felt a knot tighten in her stomach. If Winters had to deal with a  Court- Martial because of all of this, it wasn't good news for anyone. She left quickly to try to find Carwood Lipton. Only Malarkey watched her leave.

* * *

 

They sat around a table in a dusty barn,  discussing what would be the best way to keep Winters with Easy Company instead of twiddling his thumbs here in England because of the trial. Bridget watched the rain pouring down outside as the others finally worked out a plan. The idea was that they were going to attempt to resign from being a non-commissioned officer. It was a dangerous plan seeing as they weren't actually allowed to do that. It would be seen as an act of mutiny which is punishable in one way.

"So we're going through with this right?" Grant asked, leaning forward, drawing Bridget back into the conversation.

"We've gotta do something." She responded in a soft voice. The others nodded in agreement.

"Alright, good." Lip spoke up. "But we'd all better be clear of the consequences."

"I don't care about the consequences." Martin said grumpily.

"We could be lined up against a wall and shot." Lip reminded him and the others. "Now, I'm ready to face that and every one of us had better be too."

Bridget took in a slow breath. "I already risk that everyday I'm here. If risking it even is what it takes to maybe get Winters back, count me in."

"I will not follow that man into combat." Even with his distrust of Winters, Guarnere said exactly how all of the others felt.

"Me neither."

"Alright, then let's do it." They all pulled out pencils solemnly and wrote the same thing onto different slips of paper.

 _I hereby no longer wish to serve as a non-commissioned officer in Easy Company_.

Everyone signed their names, Bridget her false name and put their pencils down.

"Good luck." Lip nodded to everyone and helped Bridget gather the papers.

"Well, it was nice knowing all of you." She gave a salute and left to turn in the letters of resignation.

It wasn't long before the group of sergeants were brought before Col. Sink himself. "I ought to have you all shot! This is nothing less than an act of mutiny while we prepare for the goddamned invasion of Europe." Bridget winced slightly, but soon felt a surge of relief. So they weren't going to die. At least not today. Sgt. Harris was transferred out of the regiment and Raney got busted down to Private, but the rest of the group got away with a slap on the hand in the form of a reprimand. "Now get out of my office and get out of my sight." The sergeants saluted. "Get!" They marched out of the room in two lines. When they got outside, there was Winters. They saluted as they  walked past him. Based on the mixture of anger and pride that he let show on his face, Bridget was sure that he had an idea of what had happened.

* * *

 

"Sobel is going to Chilton Foliat!" Someone ran up yelling causing them all to look up. It was Luz and he watched the others, waiting for a reaction. All he got was stunned silence. "Did you guys not hear me or something? Sobel is gone and Lt. Meehan is taking over." Cheers finally erupted from the men standing around.

"Holy shit..." Bridget muttered to herself. She ran her hand through her hair, vaguely noticing she needed to cut it soon. Their crazy plan had somehow worked. Not only would Winters be back, but Sobel was going to be gone for good. Even with Sobel gone, however, she still had to tread carefully with her secret. Something told her that Winters would support her through it all, but his strong sense of duty would have him tell Meehan and Meehan couldn't care a rat's ass about her.

In the midst of all of the celebrating, Bridget felt a heavy weight on her chest. She knew her secret was a tough one, but it was only now hitting her just how hard it was going to be. Every day she had to make sure the binding around her chest was tight and secure. Every day she had to check that there was sufficient padding to cover my lack of, well- something. That was simple enough here, but what was going to happen when they were too busy fighting a war for her to be extra careful with it all? She was pulled from her thoughts by Malarkey shaking her shoulder.

"Great job! Sink must have known that stunt you guys pulled was because we have no confidence in Sobel." He was grinning wide, but she only nodded absently. This caused concern to fill Malarkey's face. "Are yo-" She held up her hand to stop him.

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine." It was obvious that he didn't believe her, but with one look, he knew that it wouldn't help for him to push the subject.

"Alright..." Don nodded and hesitated before going to celebrate with the rest of the guys. She watched him for a short while. Donald still worried too much about her, no matter how hard he was trying. There was another thing to add to the list what would make her secret difficult to keep.


	3. Before the Day of Days

In May of 1944, Easy Company and the rest of the 101st moved to Upottery, England. In addition to Lt. Meehan, Lt. Buck Compton joined the Company. Buck Compton was a good man through and through and Bridget would have no problem following him into to battle. It was a relief to have another leader like that. Buck was different than Winters, however, in the sense that despite his rank, he became fast friends with the like of Toye, Guarnere, Malarkey, and O'Carroll. He didn't keep himself above the enlisted men and while sure that could have its drawbacks, it worked for Buck. Of course, to make things even better, O'Carroll learned that they were equally awful at craps and that gave them something to bond over.

Bridget groaned loudly as the die hit the blanket and fell against her favor. "God damn it all to hell." She cursed as she knew she was about to lose a good deal of money. What had she been thinking letting herself getting roped into this? She felt a tug on her sleeve and turned from the game and looked to see what Bill wanted.

"Yeah, Bill?"

"It's all in the roll, alright? You gotta learn to place the die just right like I do."

"That's cheating, Bill."

"No, it's not. Stop bein' such a goodie two shoes, would ya, Bridget?" A drunk Bill Guarnere slipped up, but almost instantly realized his mistake. His eyes went wide and his face sobered up.  It was an easy mistake to make. Everyone in room, but Buck had known already and Guarnere was already friends with the man. It put him at ease. Bridget just hoped that she wouldn't have to pay for that mistake.

"Bridget? Isn't your name Patrick or is it customary in Easy Company for people to have a woman's nickname?" Her heart rammed into her throat and her face paled. How could this be happening? She had gone two years without any commissioned officer figuring out her secret and yet in his first two days here, Buck already found out. Bridget turned to look at him.

"My name isn't actually Patrick..." She confirmed what he was already starting to piece together. Tension filled the room as all eyes rest on Buck, trying to figure out what he would do next. Bridget became desperate and her voice became pleading, "Buck... Lieutenant, I have just as much right to fight and, if need be, die for my country as anyone else here. You can't... you can't let any of the officers know. I _need_ to be here. Please."

He considered her for a moment before, to everyone's surprise, simply picking up the die and offering them back to her."Sergeant O'Carroll, let us just get back to our game." He smiled and pointed at Guarnere. "And Gonorrhea, learn to keep your mouth shut when you're drunk, no one wants to hear what you have to say anyway. " And that was that. Buck acted as if nothing had occurred, but there was a new respect in his eyes and that made Bridget burst with pride and relief. Everyone relaxed, feeling even more at ease than they had before, and the game of craps continued, still going horribly for O'Carroll.

* * *

 

The men were all gathered into a large hanger in order to receive intel. That meant only one thing. They were going to be jumping soon. It was early in the month of June and, for once, the sun was shining here in England. So of course, now it was almost stifling with everyone gathered like this. "Bridget shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The heat was quite dreadful, in fact. It didn't help that they were all seated close to each other and feeling very much like sardines. She leaned forward to light the cigarette that Alex Penkala was holding out toward her and he smoked it hoping it would ease some of his own discomfort. He gave her a short wink as thanks, earning a soft chuckled from the woman. A lot of the men smoked, usually to relieve stress. Bridget didn't because she felt it was completely unnecessary, yet she always carried a lighter and all of the guys knew that. It was her father's lighter, something she had simply grabbed on her way out the door and now her only connection to home. They  were told to file out to study the sand-tables and to begin preparing for the invasion. Slowly they began to shuffle out of the hanger, every face more sober than before.

Soon, everybody had everything they needed laying out in front of them and boy it was a lot of stuff. Toye claimed it had to weigh has much as him; O'Carroll was sure it all weighed even more than her. She let out a low whistle as she stared at all, trying to figure out where to start with her packing. She hadn't decided where when she heard her name being called.

"O'Carroll! Patrick O'Carroll!"

"Over here." She responded with a small wave of her hand. A letter was shoved into the outstretched hand and the man continued his rounds. Bridget looked down at the envelope and was shocked to see that it was addressed to Patrick O'Carroll in her mother's delicate handwriting. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart skipped a few beats. Slowly, her hands finally moved to open the letter.

_Dearest Patrick,_

_I wanted to say thank you for the note you left us before you left, it was very sweet of you. We have missed you dearly and will try to write more often and hope you will do the same. I'm still not happy with your decision to run off to fight in this war, and I don't understand it, but I will still support you my dear child._

_Not much has really happened since you have left. Eugene is still Eugene and your father is still your father. Your brother, however, has gotten over his 'illness' since you left. He is so proud of you and wants to do better with his life because of you._

_We miss you dearly and pray every day that you are safely returned to us. Please, be careful and write back soon._

_With love,_

_Mom_

Bridget felt a twinge of guilt as she read over the letter once more. The note that her mother was referring to had been anything but sweet. As a goodbye, O'Carroll had left a note telling her parents that she didn't want the life they wanted for her and if that meant leaving, then so be it. And that not only was she leaving, but she was going to join the military and there was nothing they could do about it. And if ever tried, then she would be put to a firing squad. She had  little hope that they would  ever write her after that, but it had still been a disappointment when they hadn't.  Yet now here she was, finally with a letter in hand. Her family still loved her despite everything.

"Alright, listen up, listen up!" Most of them turned to look at Lip.

"If you did not sign your GI life insurance policy, you go on over and see Sergeant Evans at the headquarters company tent. You boys don't let your families miss out on $10,000." This caused Bridget to pale a little. She had already signed the form, but having it said out loud made it realer. Martin grabbed Lipton's attention and  so O'Carroll turned back to Don. He smiled and clasped a hand on her shoulder, easily recognizing her apprehension.

"I'll make sure you don't die, whatever it takes, no matter what." His voice and face were playful but there was a seriousness in his eyes that he couldn't hide.

"And I will make sure that you don't get yourself killed. I don't want to lose my best friend." Bridget made no attempt to hide her seriousness which caused Don's face to tinge pink.

He sat down and quickly changed the subject by holding up his new leg bag. "Why are they springing these things on us now?"

Bridget looked at her leg bag, examining it for a moment, as though trying to find an actual reason for the sudden addition. She looked back up at him and said in a serious voice."It's because they love us." Don shook his head and rolled his eyes.

Luz came up and dropped his leg bag not so lightly on the ground."It's just an extra 80 pounds strapped to your leg." He held up part of it. "Does anybody have any idea how the hell this thing works?"

"Yeah," Bridget jumped up and took the wire from him. "You tie it around your neck like this." She quickly attempted to put the wire around his neck, but he easily fought her off since she wasn't really trying.

"That hurts more than I can say, Princess." Luz laughed as he pushed her back towards her things. "And here I was thinking that you loved me."

"Will both of you shut ya traps? I'm trying to eat my ice cream in peace." The voice was unmistakably Guarnere and O'Carroll let out laugh at how serious he was. It was good to be feeling at ease again.

That was until the same kid who had been passing out the mail was now walking around handing out sheets of paper to everyone. "Colonel Sink." He said as he shoved a piece to Luz.

 Luz cleared his throat and put on his best Sink voice to begin reading the letter."Soldiers of the regiment: Tonight, is the night," he faded back to his own voice as he began to realize the gravity of what he was reading, "of nights. Today, as you read this you are en route to the great adventure for which you have trained for, for over two tears." He stumbled over the last part a little.

"So that's why they gave us ice cream." Bridget didn't laugh at Guarnere this time. She was simply staring at the paper shaking in her hands. Everyone was deadly silent as it sunk in how serious this was.

* * *

 

The invasion was postponed for 24 hours. There was too much fog or something of that sort. Though if fog was an issue, Bridget wasn't sure they would ever get to leave. Her and Don were the only ones who went back to the barracks that evening. Most everyone else went to see the movie that was playing, but neither of them had an interest in it. The two of them talked, joked, and laughed about nothing in particular, anything to keep their minds off of the coming invasion. The discussion was on O'Carroll's new haircut, courtesy of Liebgott, when Guarnere stormed in and sat on his cot, his head in his hands. It was obvious that he was trying to not break down in front of the two of them and so O'Carroll walked over and sat next to him.

"I'll be back, I have to- I have things I gotta do." Malarkey said softly and he left the room, knowing that his was something better left to the two of them. Bridget stayed silent and placed a gentle hand on Guarnere's back. He tensed at first, but then she could feel him trembling from fear, anger, and- and sadness. She could hear the sobs he was trying to hold back. It broke her heart to see a friend like this. She knew tomorrow he was going to be pissed about whatever happened, but for now he needed to grieve and he needed someone there to comfort him, even if he wouldn't admit it.

"M-my brother." Bill forced out slightly after a moment. He looked up at Bridget and the sadness in his eyes nearly killed her. "He was somewhere. Monte Cassino or something like that. And he- he's gone." She fully wrapped her arms around him and held him close.

"I... I'm so sorry, Bill." She muttered as he moved to hold her back, his grip tight on her. He was no longer holding back the sobs now and so O'Carroll just continued whispering soft words of comfort for the man, not sure what else she could do. O'Carroll wasn't sure how long had passed before he finally grew silent and loosened his grip on her. She moved so that she was no longer holding him and he stood up.

"Thank you." There was an unspoken understanding that she wouldn't tell anyone about what had just occurred. He started walking towards the door and she stood up slowly, watching him as he went. Guarnere turned to her as he reached the door, looking her straight in the eyes. While still red and puffy, his eyes were now filled with pure, undeniable hatred, "I'm gonna kill every last one of those Kraut bastards." And then he was gone.

Malarkey peered back into the barracks several minutes later to find Bridget alone, sitting on her bed and writing a letter. He sat down across from her and was quiet for a moment before gesturing to the paper."Response to your parents?" Bridget only nodded slightly, trying to keep her focus on the letter rather than anything else. He shifted a little, obviously having hoped for more of a response. He didn't want to pry, however, and she appreciated that. When she finished the letter and put it in an envelope, she finally looked up at Malarkey who was staring at the ground now.

"Don, " Her voice cracked causing him to look up instantly, his face filled with concern. The moment a tear slid down her cheek, he was at her side. He didn't ask questions, only held her against his chest as she began to cry. Something about seeing Guarnere like that got to her. To see someone so strong look so broken only reminded her that this was not some game. Guarnere had lost his brother and now she was beginning to realize that she was going to lose some of her own brothers. It wasn't a question of 'if' but rather 'when.' She cried for Guarnere, she cried for Malarkey. For her parents back at home. For the many she knew were going to die soon. She cried knowing that it might be her never getting to see home again. Every fear she had locked away for the past few years forced itself to the front of her mind now and all she could do now was acknowledge them. After a time, Malarkey lifted her chin gently to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

"How are you feeling, Birdie?" Her brow furrowed at the new nickname at first, but she soon had a small smile on her face.

"Better, thank  you. I... I needed that." She hid her face against his shoulder for a moment, wanting to have as much comfort as she could before having to pull away. Bridget let out a heavy breath and finally made herself move out of his hold. "Promise me you won't die on me."

"That..." He stared at her. She knew that was an impossible promise to ask for. No one could be certain what was going to happen. It was the only reason he hadn't asked the same thing of her. If she needed to hear it, however, who was he to not tell her? "I promise you I won't die."

"Good." Bridget nodded as she stood up. She turned back to him, a faint smile on her lips. "That's not too much to ask, right?" There was a slight chuckle in her voice and it was obvious that she was attempting to lighten the mood.

"No, of course not." He smiled for her before letting out a real laugh. "Now if you were asking me to run Curhahee with you, that would be a different story." She laughed as well and once again began locking away the fears that haunted her.

* * *

 

The next day, everyone went through the same preparations as they had before. There was a somberness that hung over them that hadn't been there the day before. There was no doubt that they were going to go this time. A fellow soldier was helping Bridget het their equipment on when she noticed Guarnere talking to Martin. Pity welled up in her gut and she wondered how he was doing now It couldn't be easy knowing what he knew right before their jump. As he walked away from Johnny, she could see that his eyes still held that same anger and hatred as they did the night before, even though he was trying to mask it.

Once their equipment was on, everyone sat on the ground in lines as they waited for it to be time to board the plane. O'Carroll was thankful that she would be sitting next to Malarkey on the plane, even though he was doing his best to annoy her by kicking her legs over and over. "Gentlemen," Malarkey stopped his kicking as the group was addressed. "Doc Roe is handing these out for air sickness. Orders are, every man takes one now, another 30 minutes in the air." She grabbed the pills from Doc but only stuck them in her pocket. She hadn't gotten sick from their jumps before, she doubted she would now.

"2nd Platoon listen up. Good luck. God bless you. I'll see you in the assembly area." Winters nodded at the group before beginning to help everyone  get up, shaking their hands in the process. Bridget quickly elbowed Don's leg to make up for the kicking before taking Winters' hand and standing up. She saluted him before joining the line of people trying to climb aboard the ship. She helped the person in front of her and Malarkey helped to make sure she didn't fall as well. Soon, they had all finished clambering on and taking their seats. Bridget felt the planes start up and her stomach twisted into tight knots. Malarkey's hand found hers and held onto it securely where no one else could see. It was for his own comfort as much as it was for hers. The planes started down the runway and it wasn't long before they were in the air and on their way to Normandy.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, now that I've got the first 3 chapters done, it'll probably be a lot longer between updates as they are going to take a lot more work. I'll try to keep updating regularly though.


	4. Flash and Thunder

Now that night had fallen, there was a constricting darkness that hung in the air.  Occasionally, it was broken by someone lighting a cigarette, but for the most part, they could barely make out the faces of the people nearest them. Across from her, O'Carroll could see Guarnere; he was holding his rosary just as tightly as she was holding hers, what more could they do than pray right now? Bill looked up at her and Bridget only nodded at him, unable to find the words of comfort they all needed to hear. She doubted he would be able to hear over the sound of the aircraft anyway. Next to O'Carroll sat Malarkey and next to him, Toye and that was as far as O'Carroll could see. Don turned to look out the window behind him and she squeezed his hand gently. She hadn't let go of it since they had taken off, even though she knew she probably should have. Knowing that she found so much comfort from the simple gesture was something that would only serve as a distraction. Already it had her mind reeling with confusion and that was the last thing she needed right now. Don looked at her and smiled glumly, it made her wonder briefly if he felt the same way that she did. It didn't matter either way.

With some time left until they reached the DZ, Malarkey closed his eyes and attempted to get a few moments of much needed rest and so for the next ten minutes or so, O'Carroll's thoughts were occupied by the other Easy Company men on the other planes, wondering how they were doing, but knowing that for now, she could only continue hoping and praying for their souls; for all of their souls really. They were in God's hands now.  She fidgeted slightly at the thought and the movement caused Malarkey's head to rest on her shoulder. She watched him, somehow he had actually managed to fall asleep, she could tell by the peaceful look on his face. He was even smiling slightly and she could only wonder what it was that he was dreaming about. Maybe a nice cool day sitting out in a field in Astoria he had told her he often visited. Bridget didn't know how he could sleep now, but she was glad he could even though it felt horrible knowing that his peace would not last very long. It would be replaced by the determination to kill as many Krauts as possible, anger towards them for this stupid war, fear for his life, fear for everyone's life.

And that was when she heard the first explosion. She swallowed hard and stared straight ahead, not wanting to look outside the window to see the anti-aircraft shells tearing through the skies. Malarkey's hand tightened around hers and she knew that the sound of the explosion had pulled him from his sleep. His brief moment of  peace was gone. O'Carroll tucked her rosary back into her pocket and began trying to steady her heart beat with slow, deep breaths.

Suddenly, the red light was shining, illuminating the aircraft. O'Carroll let go of Malarkey's hand as Winters stood up and began shouting his orders to them. They stood, hooked up, and began equipment checks, just as they had on every jump before.

"10 ok!."

O'Carroll felt a pat on her arm and knew that she was good to go."9 ok!" She shouted and then patted Malarkey's arm.

"8 ok!" It continued up the line.

"1 ok!" The plane began to shake violently, everyone fighting to remain standing, and the sky was lit up from the anti-aircraft guns. O'Carroll fell against the window and stared out it. Men were already filling the air, even though no one had reached the DZ yet. She struggled to her feet again and closed her eyes briefly, muttering another prayer under her breath over and over again.

"We get any lower we ain't gonna need any friggin' parachutes!" Skip Muck yelled as he leaned down to stare out the window. This did nothing to calm her nerves and O'Carroll realized now that she was shaking and not just because of the rough flying. When their green light turned on, she knew for a fact that they definitely were not at the drop zone yet. That didn't matter though.

"Let's go!" The adrenaline of getting ready to jump pushed the thoughts that they were too low and too fast out of her mind. She watched as Malarkey jumped and she followed only a few seconds later. She hit the prop-blast and her legs went up, the line holding her leg-bag instantly snapping and she watched as it went flying away from her along with a good deal of her supplies. Good to know they got to be the field testing of these things on a mission as important as this. In comparison to their previous jumps, this jump was terrifying; not only were they not where they needed to be, but the fact that we were being shot at while being completely defenseless didn't help at all. Still, O'Carroll couldn't deny that there was a certain thrill to it as she floated gracefully down, contrasting greatly with the turmoil around her. As the ground drifted closer, that changed. She heard a great rip as a shell slashed through her parachute and the thrill dissipated as she was pulled up and dropped suddenly.

"Aw, shit." The drop from that point on, was anything but graceful. She had to work hard to keep the chute as steady as she could, but luckily, it stayed together. In the end, she still hit the ground a lot faster than she would have liked, jarring both of her knees in the process of landing, but it was far better than dying. "God- ouch- fuck!" Bridget ignored the pain in her knees as best as she could and began to strip off her jumping gear, tossing it all aside. Except for her parachute, which she rolled up and placed in her bag; that was a souvenir, to say the least. With that taken care of, she looked around, trying to figure out where exactly she was and where she had to go. She didn't have long to consider it when she heard a whisper.

"Flash!" An American trooper was heading through the brush toward her.

Bridget turned quickly toward the voice and hissed out the response."Thunder!" Out of the shadows came none other than Lt. Winters, crouching as he made his way over to her.  "Now, how the hell was I lucky enough to drop near you Lieutenant?" She let out a sigh of relief. Falling faster was worth it knowing that it let her end up with Winters. Before either of them had the chance to say anything else, another soldier landed nearby.

"Flash!" The two ran at a crouch over to man. The more of them there were together, the better.

"Shit!" The paratrooper hissed in response, as he struggled with his parachute. Normally, O'Carroll would have laughed at a response like that, but now didn't seem like the time.

"I don't think that's the correct reply trooper." He continued to pull off the gear he no longer needed. "I say 'Flash', you say 'Thunder.'" Winters corrected him as he began helping the man with his equipment so that they could get moving as soon as possible.

"Yes sir, Thunder, sir." The man, a boy in all honesty, continued cursing to himself as she struggled. Bridget held her gun tightly, extremely glad it hadn't been in her leg-bag, and kept a sharp lookout. The boy looked at Winters, recognition in his eyes. "Coach? Sir, it's Hall, sir. I was on the basketball team."

"Leg-bag?" Winters was far too focused on making sure the three of them survived to be engaging in idle chatter at that moment.

"Prop-blast got it, sir, and my radio and batteries with it." Hall jammed his helmet back on and picked up his Thompson.

"That sounds familiar." Bridget said without turning to look at them. Those leg-bags really had been a shitty idea.

"Mine too, mine is somewhere behind those trees." Winters gestured in one direction and O'Carroll wondered how he had been able to see where it went with all of the chaos around them, she had lost sight of hers in just a few seconds. "Okay," He looked at the two soldiers that were with him, making sure they were ready. "Follow me." O'Carroll dropped her guard and her and Hall began to follow Winters toward the trees he had been talking about in order to retrieve his leg-bag. As they approached the woods, a machine gun began shooting in their direction. As the tracers showed that the aim was getting closer to them, they quickly ducked and turned to head in the other direction. "To hell with that!" They ran instead to another clump of trees and paused when they saw the German gun not too far from their position. "Wait until they reload." Winters ordered and they watched in silence until the German's began to focus on reloading the large gun. "Go." The three of them ran until they were a good distance from the gun and then slowed to a walk. They listened for the slightest hint of any Germans that might be nearby, but there were only trees around them. "Aren't you 'D' Company?" Winters took the lull as a chance to finally talk to the other man.

"Able, sir." Hall looked toward O'Carroll expectantly.

"I'm with him." She gestured toward Winters with her head. "Easy."

"Guess that means I might just be in the wrong drop zone, sir?" The A Company man sighed softly, as though it was his fault for winding up in the wrong area.

"Yeah, or all of us are."

"I say all of us." O'Carroll muttered unhappily. How had things gotten so monumentally fucked up on their first real jump? Couldn't just one thing go right? This must be what going to hell in a hand basket felt like.

"Do you have a weapon sir?"

"Just my knife." Winters' responded, seemingly unphased by the fact he for all intents and purposes was unarmed while surrounded by hostile forces.

O'Carroll turned to looked at him, she hadn't noticed he wasn't carrying a rifle. "You want mine, sir?" She held the carbine toward him, but he shook his head and pushed it back toward her.

"No, Sergeant O'Carroll, you keep that. I'll be fine."

"Do you have any idea where we are sir?" Hall asked yet another question. It was obvious that he was only trying to calm his nerves and that was the only reason she wasn't asking him to shut the hell up. Winters paused as he looked around, trying to see if he could spot any landmarks that may clue him in to where they were.

"Some."

"We're in France." Bridget said as brightly as she could, wanting to put everyone at ease. "The land of fine food and fine wine." She could see Winters as he smiled and shook his head slightly. That brought a smile to her face.

"You forgot fine women!" Hall piped in.

"Uh yeah, that too. How could I forget that?" O'Carroll's tone masked her awkwardness fairly easy. She was so used to being herself when she was joking with the guys, that she forgot that this kid didn't know her.

Winters changed the subject after that, turning it back to Hall. "So, you're a radio man?"

"Yes sir. Well, I was until I lost my radio on the jump. I'm sure I'll get chewed out for that." They began walking again, Hall's hand on constant swivel as he kept an eye out for any hostiles.

"Well, if you were in my platoon, I'd tell you, you were a rifleman first and a radio man second."

"Well, maybe you could tell that to my platoon leader. When we find him. If we find him." It was clear that Hall was getting nervous again.

"It's a deal. First, I need your help. We'll locate some landmarks to get our bearings. Keep your eyes peeled for buildings, farmhouses, bridges, roads," He paused, "Trees." They both chuckled.

"Uh, sir," O'Carroll's voice was deadpan. Winters turned her way. "I found a tree, sir." A wide grin broke out on her face and it only widened when she saw one appear on Winters face as well.

"I think you need to stop hanging out with Luz, Sergeant." Bridget could only shrug, still smiling, as Winters let out another soft laugh.

"I wonder if the rest of them are as lost as we are."

"We aren't lost, Private, it's as the Sergeant said, we're in Normandy."

* * *

 

O'Carroll didn't know how long they had been walking until they had finally come out of the trees and onto a dirt road. There was a river running on the other side of the road and a bridge that crossed it and with these landmarks, maybe now they would have a better chance of figuring out where exactly they were. O'Carroll thought hard about the sand tables they had been asked to memorize, but there were still several places that they could be. The sound of branches snapping on the other side of the river grabbed everyone's attention and they dropped down and watched the other side of the river, just barely being able to make out people across the river. Winters pulled out his cricket and clicked it once. They waited for a response, holding their breath. Hall and O'Carroll both raised their guns when there was no immediate response. Then the sound of two clicks came and their guns went down, the two of them sighing in relief.

"Who's that?" Winters called out toward the water as a small group began crossing it to get to them.

"Lieutenant Winters, is that you?" Approaching them now was none other than Carwood Lipton with two other men O'Carroll had never seen before.

"Get in here, sit down." They moved forward to form a circle with the newcomers. "Any weapon?" Winters asked the Sergeant, they needed every bit of supplies they could have.

Lipton shook his head as he spoke. "No sir, as soon as I hit that prop-blast, so long leg-bag. All I got is this knife and some TNT."

"Wow, been hearing that a lot tonight." Lip glanced over at Bridget after she spoke, just now noticing her, and smiled.

"O'Carroll, good seeing you."

"Jerry won't kill me that easily, Lip. Though they sure are trying." She chuckled and rubbed one of her knees, thankful that the aching had dulled immensely by now.

Lip turned back to Winters to finish giving his report. "These 82nd boys got their M-1's, though."

"Oh man, 82nd, where the hell are we?" Hall asked for not the first time.

This time, Lipton actually had an answer for them."Sir, I saw a sign back thataways, said 'Sainte Mere-Eglise.'"

With this information, Winters then did something that no one was expecting. He began unzipping his pants. "Uh, Lieutenant..." Bridget began but soon Winters was holding up a compass and giving her a look that clearly said 'Really?'. "Oh."

"Flashlight." Lipton handed him a flashlight. "Raincoat?"

"You got a raincoat?"

"Yeah." One of the 82nd boys handed one over. Winters went under the raincoat hopefully to find out where the hell they had to go. He came back up not too much later.

"We're about 7 kilometers away from our objective and 4 hours away from when we need to have it secured. So, we got a lot of walking ahead of us. You men will stick with us until we find your unit. Let's go." They moved out, now finally moving in the correct direction.

"Hey, Sarge, where are we going?" One of the 82nd boys asked, trailing behind both Lipton.

"Causeway number 2, Utah Beach. The Germans flooded the fields inland. We don't clear those routes, our boys ain't going nowhere."

"Six of us ain't gonna secure a road." Bridget smiled as she walked behind the 82nd boys, they weren't Easy Company, they hadn't been training with Winters for two years now. "That Louie don't even have a weapon." She came up beside them.

"He doesn't need one." They looked at her, obviously confused. "Lieutenant Winters is the best damn commander I've seen, he'll figure something out, don't you worry." She gave them a nod before jogging to catch up with Lipton.

They hadn't gone far when they heard faint talking coming from the rail road near them. It was impossible to tell if it was English or German but they prayed it was English.

"Flash." Winters challenged again.

"Thunder." Multiple voices responded. They crawled out of the bushes and onto the tracks.

"Lieutenant, is that you?" More Easy Company boys it seemed.

"Malarkey?" Winters asked as they approached the shadowed figures.

O'Carroll's head snapped up at the name. "Don?" She could see that Popeye, Guarnere, and Toye were there too, but her focus remained on her best friend.

He looked past Winters, squinting a little to try to see who called his name. Relief flowed onto his face."O'Carroll, you're alright." Their two groups merged and the friend's clasped hands, resisting the urge to hug each other.

"Yes I am. You seriously ever doubted that?" She let go of his hand to return to hold her carbine properly.

"Wasn't that you who went flying past me with the hole in your parachute?"

"Yes siree." Bridget winked. "Got hit by a shell, but I guess it wasn't enough to make the parachute completely collapse. Still, I fell faster and landed a little harder than I wanted to. I was lucky though, I only jarred my knees a little, it could have been worse. Then Winters came up and after that there really isn't all that much to talk about."

"How'd you get so lucky as to end up near Winters?" Don asked with a laugh.

"That's exactly what I wanted to know!" She chuckled. "What about you? What happened to you?"

"Well, like I said, I saw you flying past me, at least I assumed it was you, so once I landed, I started in that direction, hoping to find you. That's when I ran into Toye and so I started following him. We met up with the other two and there you go."

"You were seriously going to go look for me?"

"Well, yeah. You're the one who said that you would keep my dumb ass from dying." They laughed as loud as they dared. His voice softened when he next spoke. "I sure am glad to see you alive and walking though, Birdie."

"Don, I couldn't let you fight Germans without me, now could I?" She chuckled and pat his shoulder. "It's good to see you're alright too."  Bridget added as her own bit of sincerity.

After speaking to Guarnere, Winters made his way to the back of the group, just beyond Malarkey and O'Carroll, to stare out at the darkness behind them. Reassured that no one else was there, he turned back, his eyes landing on O'Carroll and Malarkey. It was only then they realized how close they were still standing and they quickly put more distance between them. It was this reaction that made Winters raise an eyebrow, not their closeness. "Let's get moving." Winters said still looking curiously at them. The group began walking again, the only sound was that of the gravel crunching softly under their boots.

They had only been walking for a few minutes when Hall heard something, bringing everyone to a stop. They tilted their heads, trying to hear what it was that he heard. That time, they all heard the neighing in the distance. It was well known that the Germans usually used carriages because of a gas shortage, so, it was highly doubtful it was one of their own. Winters ran quietly to where he could see down the road. He confirmed that they were Germans by having everyone moved down on either side of the road, setting a trap outside of a tunnel. O'Carroll's grip tightened on her weapon as the sound of the horses got closer. "Wait for my command." Winters whispered and raised his hand. The Germans entered the small tunnel as the group watched them from where they were hiding.

Before Winters gave the order, there was shooting. Guarnere had jumped up and was releasing hell on the now bewildered Germans. With no other choice, the rest of them all jumped in and began firing  as well. Bridget watched as the German she shot went down. After that, she simply fired, not taking the time to watch the men as they fell.  Soon, all of the soldiers were dead but there was still the sound of gunfire as Bill continued to shoot at the bodies. O'Carroll was staring blankly at the bodies strewn around; she had killed her first German now. She had killed someone, multiple someones actually. It left a heavy feeling on her chest.

"That's enough Guarnere!" Winters yelled and O'Carroll shook her head clear, loosening her hold on the gun. Later, she told herself, she can deal with it all later. Winters was staring hard at Guarnere who just stared right back. Guarnere had been deadly serious when he told her he was going to kill every last one of those Kraut bastards, it seemed. "Everyone ok?"

"Yes, sir." Most of them mumbled as they began going through the bodies, looking for any useful supplies. One of the horses neighed and Toye looked at Bridget who was standing next to him. She nodded and returned to watching Bill and Winters.

"Next time I say wait for my command, you wait for my command Sergeant." At this point, it was hard to say who was angrier, Guarnere or the Lieutenant.

"Yes sir." It seemed as though Guarnere had a few more words he would have liked to say, but he was interrupted by the sound of Toye shooting the horse. Everyone but Bridget jumped, already knowing what Joe was going to do. She wished she could say it was because they wanted to put it out of its misery, but the truth was they didn't want their position to be given away even more.

Lipton approached Winters. "Here you go Lieutenant, Kraut weapon." Winters grabbed the weapon. He spared Bill one last look, receiving only a glare, and followed Lipton.

"Fine, Quaker." Bridget watched as he walked away and sighed. She wanted to say something to him, but decided it was best to keep her mouth shut. There was no sense in trying to talk with him when he was like this.

"What's that guy's problem?" Hall asked, drawing the attention of both Don and Bridget.

"Gonorrhea." Malarkey said simply as he walked by him.

"Really?" O'Carroll stifled a laugh, but Malarkey seemed less amused.

"His name, dummy, Guarnere, Gonorrhea, get it?" They continued forward through the tunnel, stepping over the bodies.

"So, besides having a shitty name, what's his problem?" Hall pried further and a soldier standing nearby turned to them. It was Bill.

"None of your fucking business, cowboy."

"Alright, let's move out. Quietly."

Bridget looked around at the mess they were leaving behind."Yeah, it's a bit too late for quietly, I think." They stepped over the bodies and left the tunnel, continuing down the road toward the objective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As I am trying to get better at my writing, any constructive criticism or comments are greatly appreciated!


	5. D-Day

As they walked, daylight was slowly began taking over the darkness. Trekking up a small hill and started walking along a small lake. O'Carroll paused for only a second to admire the beauty of the sunrise reflecting on the water. Even though they knew it made them more visible, the sun was a welcome sight. It was as though it was erasing away the dark hell they had just been in. They all knew this wasn't true, that things would undoubtedly would only get worse from here, but it was a small comfort they could appreciate for now.

"I hope we find everyone else." Popeye broke the silence. There were quiet murmurs of agreement from the rest of the Easy Company troopers. They had seen the planes that had gone down and the idea that one of those planes may have had their friends was not a thought anyone enjoyed. It left a sour taste in everyone's mouths.  

"Well," O'Carroll rubbed her face, smearing the face paint that she was still wearing. The sun was higher now as they began to wade across the water and it was starting to get warm . She pushed on for a new topic, "How is everyone liking France, so far? I'm personally enjoying how peaceful the countryside is." Most of the men just scoffed, one or two actually laughed.

"Oh, it's great, wonderful." Toye's voice was laced with sarcasm and it made her laugh. "I'm having the fucking time of my life." He rolled his eyes before smirking at Bridget, letting her know he appreciated the humor.

"It fucking sucks." Guarnere, on the other hand, obviously wasn't in a laughing mood. "Did you see him? He just sat there." O'Carroll swatted at the gnats as she listened to him, not that she really wanted to hear him complain about Winters _again_.

"He didn't have a weapon." Toye tried to reason with his friend, though he knew that it wouldn't do much. Guarnere was a stubborn son of a bitch at the best of times and everyone who knew what happened to his brother could really blame him for it now. It didn't hurt to try, however. "What's he gonna do, shout at 'em?"

"Shouts at me for killing Krauts." Bill grunted, kicking the water a little.

"He just wanted you to wait for his command." Joe sighed, looking back at O'Carroll as if asking for her help. She shrugged a little. If Bill's best friend didn't know what to say, how should she?

"Joe, he don't even drink."

Joe continued to look expectantly at O'Carroll, so she spoke up this time. "You say that like it's a bad thing, Guarnere."

"Jesus, O'Carroll, even you drink." There was more irritation in his voice now. He was fully aware that they were trying to team up on him, as if that would change anything. All Guarnere wanted was vengeance for his brother's death. It seemed as though he sure as hell wouldn't be able to get that with Winters in charge.

"Personally, I'm glad he doesn't drink." As they stepped up onto dry land, Bridget shook the water off her boots. "Would you really want to fight when your commanding officer is drunk or even just hung-over?"

"And, he's a fucking Quaker."

"So the fuck what, Bill?" Bridget snapped at him, tired of hearing the same old argument. Apparently she had less patience than Toye did, which was quite a feat. "Why the hell does it matter if he's a Quaker or not?" He only glared at O'Carroll this time and so she scoffed and looked forward again, seeing the woods they were about to enter. "More fucking trees, you have got to be kidding me." She said louder than she had meant to, but damned if she wasn't sick of ending up in the woods.

"Sergeant O'Carroll." Winters reprimanded from his position further ahead.

"Sorry, sir." Her ears tinged the slightest pink in embarrassment. Now wasn't the time for being loud, she should know that.

"Just come here."

Bridget trotted forward until she was walking next to him. "Yes, sir?"

"I must say, you and Guarnere talk loudly." Winters glanced at her as he calmly let her know he had heard everything they had just been saying, not just her comment on the trees.

"Ah..." She fidgeted slightly and glanced back at Guarnere. "So... you heard all of that then?"

"Yes, I wanted to t-" He stopped talking when he saw a burned out house in front of them. Fists went up and everyone came to a halt. Winters held his hand out flat, letting everyone know they needed to crouch. "Lipton, Wynn." He whispered and the two of them went forward to make sure the area was clear. No one was in or around the building, so they gestured to the rest of the squad. Everyone stood back up and walked towards the building. Hanging from a tree nearby was a poor paratrooper, long since dead. As she walked by, O'Carroll said a quick prayer for him and did the sign of the cross, but she didn't let her gaze linger long. What an awful way to go.

"Anybody need supplies or ammo, now's the time to get it." Lip said as he began to search through another body laying on the ground. They all hesitated for a brief moment before beginning to move from body to body, grabbing anything they needed. Winters pulled an M-1 off of the hanging boy, finally getting to dump the Kraut weapon he had. "McDowell, you okay?" O'Carroll looked up, mostly to see who the hell McDowell was, to find one of the 82nd boys was just staring up at the man in the tree; he then turned to look at Lip.

"Yes, Sergeant." He didn't look okay to O'Carroll, but that was something he would have to figure out for himself. Each of them had to be able to deal with it on their own. This death was just a hint of what was to come and they couldn't afford to break down already.

"Then let's go." Lip went back to his search and Bridget kneeled next to Toye, searching the body he had just taken a weapon from. What she needed was more ammo, she had lost most of hers because of the leg-bag.

"Hey, I promised my kid brother I'd fetch him back a luger. So I get first dibs, okay?" Don was searching one of the German bodies nearby.

"Yeah, Malarkey. Since we know you couldn't possibly find one on your own." Bridget said without looking up from her search. She spotted the ammo and swatted Toye's hand away so she could take it for herself.

Malark shook his head and pointed to another dead German."Just check that one." Planes flew overhead only seconds after he spoke, causing almost everyone else to drop down. Lip and Winters continued what we were doing, only sparing a glance up.

"It's the Navy." Lip explained, putting everyone at ease. O'Carroll lightly pat the chest of the body she had dived for cover on before standing.

"The landings have started, let's go." Winters urged the men on, it was time to get moving if they were going to help those boys on the beach like they were supposed to.

"Let's move it out." Lip pat the back of McDowell as he walked by him to take point.

"Right on time." Hall was standing there, looking at his watch.

Guarnere looked up at him from where he was still kneeling by a body. "Yeah, tell that to him, Cowboy." He pointed to the dead soldier. While he kind of had a point, Guarnere was taking his anger and frustration out on the Able Company kid simply because he was someone who wasn't a higher rank than he was _and_ wasn't family.

"Ease up, Guarnere." O'Carroll tapped his shoulder as she moved around him. He shrugged her hand away and finished gathering his things before picking up his gun.

"My name's Hall." He corrected, looking at a Guarnere who couldn't give less of a shit.

"That so?" Guarnere sneered at the boy before standing up.

"Let's move out." Winters made the men move forward in front of him.

Malarkey turned to the kid."You just gotta learn to return his fire is all."

"You gotta realize it ain't about  _you_." Toye walked by, shaking his head a little.

"He just heard his brother-"

"Malarkey, shut your yap." Guarnere brushed by them.

"His brother got it at Cassino," Malarkey said softer so that Guarnere couldn't hear him, "Found out before we jumped." This got the attention of Winters who was still walking behind them. Noticing the surprise on his face, Bridget dropped back so that she was walking next to him.

"You didn't know that did you ,sir?" Bridget asked. He only shook his head as an answer. "That's why you shouldn't take anything he said to me earlier too seriously. He's been having a rough few days. He just needs some time."

* * *

 

The morning wore on and finally, they were almost at the company assembly area. O'Carroll grunted in disgust as her boot slipped in the mud. The path they were on now was trampled, making it difficult for everyone to walk in and yet for the most part, they were happy. It was a relief to be so close to other American troopers and everyone was hopeful to find more of Easy Company alive and well.

"Morning, sir." A soldier guarding a group of German prisoners greeted Winters and the group. "Battalion sure will be happy to see you guys."

"Where?" Winters paused to ask, O'Carroll and a few others trudged on, ready to sit down if they could get the chance.

"At the farm, sir."

"Top of the mornin' to ya fellas, enjoying the war?" Malark said to the prisoners in an fake Irish accent, making some of the paratroopers laugh. O'Carroll shook her head with a chuckle, but kept walking, not really feeling up to taunting the men. "Where are you from, son?"

 Malarkey laughed and was ready to leave when the man actually responded. "Eugene, Oregon." Malarkey stopped and looked back, stunned at the answer. Even more surprised was O'Carroll, who was only a few feet ahead. When she heard the answer, she stopped dead in her tracks.

"Eugene? You gotta be kidding me." Bridget stayed rooted to the spot. Her legs felt weak and she was afraid she would fall if she tried to move. This could not be fucking happening. "Popeye, did you hear this? I'm from Astoria." Malark could barely contain his disbelief and excitement.

"You don't say." The German soldier responded, now O'Carroll easily recognized the voice.

"Yeah, and O'Carroll over there is from Eugene." Now he had done it. Bridget finally began walking again, just wanting to get away. She was going have to chew his ass out for this.

"O'Carroll?" It was the German-American's turn to be surprised. Of course he knew the name, how could he not know the name?

"Yeah, hold on." Malark was grinning as he ran up to O'Carroll, grabbing her shoulder to turn her around. "Bridget, come here." Despite the fact her brain was shouting at her to stop, her body moved, following behind Malarkey. There was only one person from Eugene who could possibly be sitting with a group of German POWs. They reached back to where the Germans were sitting, O'Carroll practically hiding behind Malarkey.

The POW leaned to the side, trying to get a glimpse of the soldier behind Don. "The only O'Carroll I know from Eugene who could possibly be here is a drunk. Patrick, that you?"

Bridget stepped out from behind Malark, there was no way she would be able to keep hiding anyway."He _was_ a drunk. He's getting better." Sitting right in front of her was none other than Lukas Herrman. "I wish I could say it's nice seeing you, Lukas."  It took him only a few seconds to recognize her in return, even in the state she was in.

"Well, this is a surprise," Lukas laughed loudly and leaned forward in interest, lowering his voice so no one else could hear him. " I didn't know they let girls in the Army."

"They don't." Bridget said flatly, watching him as his eyes tracing over her. It turned her look into a cold glare.

"Wait. So, you two actually really know each other?" Malarkey looked between the two of them. His eyes stayed on Bridget for longer, easily noticing the hostility emanating from her. Something told him that the phrase 'if looks could kill' was coined for exactly this moment.

"We dated." Lukas stated simply. Malarkey's mouth dropped in utter surprise. That was anything but what he had expected. Though that would explain the resentment that was obvious on Bridget's face. He regained his composure and returned his attention to Lukas.

"Well, what gives? What are you doing in a Kraut uniform?"

Bridget answered for him."Volksdeutsche." She remembered the speech that Lukas had given her as clear as day.

Malarkey looked at her, even more confused than he already was. "Come again?"

"Volksdeutsche." Lukas answered this time. "My family answered the call. All true Aryans should return to the Fatherland. Joined up in '41." Bridget scoffed derisively and looked away from the man, feeling a little sick to her stomach.

"You're shitting me, right?"

"Wish he was." She shook her head, not wanting to go through this conversation again.

"Hey Malarkey, O'Carroll," Toye yelled back at the two of them, a smile on his face. "Stop fraternizing with the enemy. Get over here." Bridget went to go, but Don held her back and waved for Toye to hang on.

"What got you to Eugene?" Don moved to lean against the hill.

"I was born in Eugene."

"Really?" Lukas only nodded. "And you two," Malarkey gestured between the two of them, "Dated?" Bridget watched the guard above them closely, glad as he walked further away. This wasn't a conversation that needed to be overheard.

"She was going to be my fiancée, actually."

O'Carroll spoke at the same time, turning back to the conversation. "He's an asshole."

"I'm the asshole?" Lukas chuckled as he looked at her. "If I recall correctly, you're the one who punched me in the face. You actually broke my nose, you know."

"Good," O'Carroll looked particularly proud at that revelation. If there was one thing her brother had taught her, it was how to throw a good punch. "Maybe you should have thought it through before you asked me to marry you and join the Nazi party. What the _fuck_ made you think I would say yes to that?"

"Well, silly me for thinking that you loved me and would do anything to be with me."

"So... wait... you- you really think I would throw away my own ideals for you? You really didn't know me very well then." Bridget's fist clenched as she continued to fight to hold back her anger. It was amazing how even years later, he was able to piss her off like this.

"You know, my offer still stands, perhaps the Füher will let you live if you are married to a German soldier and stop fighting us." Malarkey had been standing in stunned silence, watching his friend and the German-American, but he grunted in disapproval at Lukas' suggestion.

"As if you are really in the position to talk about life or death." Bridget gestured to the general surroundings.

Lukas' voice lowered. "I really loved you, you know? Sill kind of do. Something tells me you never loved me though."

She spit on the ground in front of him. "You're damn right I didn't." Her hand raised and he grabbed her wrist roughly. He had no chance to say anything before Malarkey had his gun against Lukas' head.

"Let her go." Don hissed violently, his eyes narrowed. No longer was there confusion on his face. Lukas studied Malarkey with, what appeared to be, amusement. The guard finally noticed the interaction and raised his own gun. Bridget raised her free hand, however, to stop him from doing anything. She could get the situation under control.

"I see that she has you under her spell." She didn't have to do anything, and Lukas released his grip on his own.  Bridget pulled her hand away, rubbing the wrist gently. Malarkey relaxed a little, lowering his gun. "Bridget certainly has a way with wrapping men around her finger. Get out while you can." Lukas laughed and before either of them could reply, Popeye called for them from down the road.

"Hey, Malark, O'Carroll, we're waiting on you."

"Yeah, we're coming." O'Carroll was quick to turn and walk away. Malarkey's eyes never left Lukas' until they were a few feet away, his jaw still set in anger.

"See you around." Lukas said softly.

Bridget turned back briefly. "Don't count on it." With that, O'Carroll and Malarkey followed Popeye back toward the assembly area. "What the hell, Malark?" She finally turned her anger on him. "What if he tells someone that," she paused, lowering her voice as they passed Lieutenant Ronald Speirs of Dog Company. "What if he tells someone who I am?"  

"I... I don't know. I don't know what I was thinking." Don looked down, his anger fading now, replaced by shame. "You're right that was stupid of me."

"You're damn right it wa-" They heard gunfire and quickly turned around, all three of them yanking their guns off their shoulders.

"Shit." Malarkey muttered as they stared back down the path.  Something told them that all of the Krauts were dead now. Lukas included.

Bridget let out a heavy breath, trying to comprehend not only that someone she knew was dead, but also she felt more of a sense of relief than anything else. Maybe she never had loved Lukas and he certainly had a way of pissing her off, but still... "They probably tried to escape." She muttered softly. Popeye nodded and the three of them continued down the path until they found the rest of Easy. Malarkey sat down next to Toye and O'Carroll next to him.

"Hey, Malark, where's the best chow?" Toye asked. Malarkey didn't respond. "In Berlin." Still no response. "What crawled into your ass, Don?"

Popeye leaned forward. "You aren't upset about those POWs, are you?" He stopped and watched as Speirs walked by. "I mean, I can't believe he killed them, but..."

Toye sat up, interested now."Wait, what? You talking 'bout those German prisoners we passed?" Bridget nodded a little watching Speirs' back as he continued on his way. "He shot them all? Holy shit, you're kidding right?"

"Nope, we heard the gunshots, right Malark?" Popeye reached over to hit Malark's arm, making sure they would actually get a response out of him now.

"Yeah..." Don was obviously still distracted, even as he responded to them. O'Carroll raised an eyebrow, silently asking her question and Don just waved it off.

"Jesus Christ. Well, I guess there are less Germans we have to worry about." Toye sat back against the hill.

* * *

 

O'Carroll looked at the faces in the circle with her. There were a few faces she was incredibly glad to see. Buck for one, but also Liebgott. It was even nice to see Petty. Her eyes landed on Corporal Arnold Peterson was standing across from her. Peterson was seen as a bit of a black sheep in the company. He was one of the few that didn't know that she was actually a woman, mostly because she thought he was an asshole. She would have preferred to see Luz or Penkala or anyone really in his place. He seemed to be glaring at her, but before she could think on it, Winters began their briefing.

"The 88's we've been hearing have been spotted in a field, down the road aways. Major Strayer wants us to take 'em out. There are two guns that we know of, firing on Utah Beach, and plan on a third and a fourth, here and here." He added two more Xs to the map he had been drawing for them. "The Germans are in the trenches, with access to the entire battery and with machine-gun cover in the rear. We'll establish a base of fire and move under it hard and fast with two squads of three or four."

"How many Krauts they think we facing?" Guarnere asked as he stared down at the map.

Winters looked at Bill, his expression soft now that he knew what the man was dealing with. "No idea."

"No idea?" Guarnere didn't bother to conceal the disbelief in his voice.

"We'll take some TNT along with us, to spike the guns. Lipton, your responsibility."

"Yes, sir."

"Liebgott, you'll take the first machine-gun with Petty, A gunner. Plesha, Hendrix, you take the other. Who does that leave?" The rest of them raised their hands, Hall included. "Compton, Malarkey , Toye, Guarnere, O'Carroll, Peterson. Okay. We'll be making the main assault."

"Alright, let's pack it up, boys." Everyone turned to leave to begin preparing.

"Shouldn't you be outside with the other Able Company guys?" Toye said to Hall as he squeezed by the disappointed looking kid.

"See you around, Hall." Guarnere, for once, was being semi-nice to Hall. At least he got his name right. They all walked out and began getting ready for the assault.

"Oh, Sergeant O'Carroll." Winters stopped Bridget before she left with the others.

Bridget turned back towards him. "Yes, sir?"

"They were going to make it official after the assault today, but you're being promoted to Staff Sergeant, so congratulations."

"Thank you, sir." She nodded and made her way outside with the others. As she began preparing her things, Peterson came to stand next to her, but she paid him no mind. She was too busy thinking about the attack we were getting ready for, to pay attention to the man that was still staring at her.

"So, O'Carroll, you seem a little worried, lost your balls or something?" His comment made her brow furrow, but she continued to ignore him. "Oh, right, you never had any, did you?" She spun around to see if anybody heard him, but luckily only Toye was near enough to hear. Toye shifted to look at the two of them, pausing in his preparations as Bridget responded.

"Who the hell told you that, Peterson?"

"No one told me shit. I heard Guarnere and Toye talking about you and Malarkey." He leaned in closer, inspecting her face.

"Get out of my face, Peterson." She was still trying to focus on her things, but it wasn't easy now.

 "Holy shit, it's true, isn't it? You're a fucking broad!"

"What I am is your superior officer and I will not tell you again to get the hell out of my face." Today had already had its issues, she didn't need this to add to the pile.

"I ain't taking orders from no fucking whore." He said, his disdain obvious. This was the final straw for her.

She turned to him, slamming her bag on the wall next to her so that now her full attention was on him. "What did you just say to me?"

"I said, I ain't taking orders from a little bitch like you." Peterson didn't even see the punch coming until Bridget's fist collided with his face. Thankfully, there were still no commanding officers nearby to see it.

"Listen here, you fucking piece of shit," she spat down at the man. He attempted to hit her back, but Toye sprung into action, simply holding the man back to prevent a brawl that would certainly grab attention. He knew O'Carroll could handle it otherwise. "I have gone through just as much as you have and I have earned my place here. You are going to respect that and me, no matter what is between my legs. Is that clear?" He said nothing, his glare saying it all. "Is that clear, Corporal Peterson or am I going to have to beat it into that thick skull of yours?"

"Crystal." He growled and Toye finally let him go.

"Good." She scoffed and picked up her things, making her way to where Malarkey was standing, watching her.

"You alright there, Bridget?" He asked with barely masked concern. He had seen her temper before, and in fact had been at the receiving end of it, but he had never seen her hit anyone.

"It'll be fine. It just stings a little." Bridget looked at her red knuckles, flexing her fingers as she did. God, it felt good to have punched someone. It was as though she was releasing everything that had been building up all morning.

"Not what I meant. What was that even all about?"

She worried her lip for a moment before answering his question. "Peterson knows about me. He overheard Guarnere and Toye and their big mouths. " O'Carroll shook out her hand. "Apparently, he won't take orders from no whore."

"Alright, you heard the word, let's move, let's move." Lipton called out and the two began moving towards the rest of the group. Staying close so they could continue the conversation.

"Seriously? He said that to you?" Malarkey asked incredulously.

"Oh yeah."

"I might have to punch him myself then." He chewed on his lip and glanced in Peterson's direction. It was bad enough that the man knew, but now... now it was obvious he just about hated Bridget. That could only spell trouble. "Think he'll tell anyone?"

"Tell someone he got that nice shiner from a woman?" O'Carroll chuckled softly and shook her head. "I doubt it." She let out a heavy breath. "It's already been a long day, hasn't it? First the jump not going well, then... then Lukas, and now Peterson."

"Something tells me we have a lot of long days ahead."

"I don't doubt it."  

 


	6. The End of the Longest Day

The sound of the guns grew louder and louder as Easy Company made its way towards its new objective. When they were near enough, Winters signaled for everyone to be quiet and be ready for the assault. Bridget's heart sped up to an unbearable pace. She may have already shot her first German soldier, but this was to be their first full-on assault; what wasn't there to be nervous about? And yet, she wasn't as worried as she could be. It wasn't as though it was Sobel leading them now. She trusted Winters and knew he would do what he could to keep them all alive. They sped across a farm and stayed in cover behind the line of trees as Winters, Buck, and Lip studied the situation. She remembered having listened closely, not wanting to miss an order, but it was mostly a haze. That broke the moment their attack started and she heard their machine guns firing.

Even in their surprise, the Krauts began firing back in no time. Everyone who was going to be in the main assault was firing into the fray now, serving as a distraction so that Buck, Malarkey, and Guarnere could get into the trench. O'Carroll took a shot and pulled back behind a tree, just as the area was peppered with gunshots. She let out a laugh, more out of nerves than actually humor, and returned to shooting across the field. It was getting a little rough now, the trees were good cover, but the German's had the superior position still. Thankfully, it wasn't much longer until they got the signal they were waiting for when three grenades exploded in the trench and Buck, Guarnere, and Don all jumped into it. "Let's go, let's go! Follow me!"

There was no hesitation to follow Winters, there never was. Maybe that made them crazy, their willingness to follow a man across an open field through heavy fire, or maybe it was something else. Maybe it was just that Richard Winters was just the kind of person that made you want to do anything you could to not let him down, even if it meant doing something irrational and getting hurt. Or worse. He simply inspired that kind of loyalty and as a result, that kind of courage. At any rate, on his order, the men and O'Carroll began to run across the field, taking shots when they could, but mostly doing their best to get to and into the trenches as soon as possible. It worked well for most of them, but not everyone was able to reach the trenches unscathed. Popeye was just about to drop into the trench when he got hit, a bullet tearing straight through his ass.  He let out a cry and dropped to the ground before rolling into the trench and out of the line of fire.

"Oh, fuck! It just got my ass!" O'Carroll glanced at him, trying to see how bad the damage was, but another bullet whizzing over head reminded her of the Germans just outside the trench. She returned to firing at them, wanting to take care of the immediate threat before taking care of Popeye. "Sorry, sir. Shit, I'm sorry, sir." Leave it to Robert 'Popeye' Wynn to apologize after being shot as though it was his fault. Thankfully, Toye ran over to help with Popeye so she kept her attention on the Germans. "I screwed up."

"Grenade!" The call didn't register at first. It wasn't until Winters began yelling again did Toye and O'Carroll understand. "B- Joe, Patrick, roll on, roll on!" They both jumped onto Popeye at just the correct moment, not really helping his pain any, but saving themselves a world of hurt.

"Get off!" Popeye cried out and O'Carroll and Toye sat back up, beginning to check everywhere to see that they were still in one piece. Guarnere watched the two of them with concern as Joe checked to make sure everything between his legs was still there. By the look of relief on his face, O'Carroll assumed it was.

"You are one lucky bastard, Joe." Guarnere said before he returned to shooting. O'Carroll moved up and found her carbine, ready to start shooting again as well. She wasn't firing long when Winters came by and issued further orders for them.

"Guarnere, Malarkey, O'Carroll, Lorraine, secure that gun!" They moved through the trenches in the direction of the first gun, leaving Popeye under Buck's care. As they approached the gun, they had to stay low to avoid the heavy fire that was directed at them.

"Lorraine, move, go! Malark, O'Carroll!" Lorraine, the man who had driven Sink's jeep for him, crawled under the gun and O'Carroll followed right behind him. Once reaching the cover, they begin firing back, doing what they could to keep gun under their control until it could be destroyed. "This everything you hoped it would be, O'Carroll?" Bill called over the deafening sound of the fighting. "Starting to wish you had stayed home?"

"Hell no!" It wasn't a lie. It was loud and dangerous and miserable, but she was glad to be here. Here she was helping. "Why, are you?"

"I'll let you know when the day is over." He called with a laugh. It was good to see him in a better mood than he had been before, even if it was in the middle of a firefight.

"I think one of those dead Krauts has a Luger." Malarkey now yelled over all of the chaos as well.  O'Carroll paused in her firing to stare at him in disbelieve. How could he be thinking getting a prize at a time like this?

"You're shittin' me right?" She yelled in response as they hid from another barrage of bullets.

"So what?" Guarnere asked, just as incredulous as she was.

They didn't get a chance to question Malarkey's sanity any further as Liebgott, Petty, and Peterson came into the trench now. "Keep your head low, Petty, c'mon, move it!" It was mostly a welcome sight, they could use the suppressing fire, but then of course there was Peterson. After their last interaction, something told her that fighting _with_ him wasn't going to be so simple. To make it worse, he looked even angrier now than he had before. Yet O'Carroll couldn't help but smirk at the bruise already discoloring his face. It made his scowl only deepen as he raised his weapon to start firing at the German soldiers. At least he wasn't aiming it at her. "Have a little suppressing fire, why don't you?"

"Jesus Christ!" Petty yelled, working as fast as he could to get the gun ready.

"Thank God for you guys!" O'Carroll was still distracted by the machine-gun being set up so she didn't notice when Malarkey left her side. That was until she heard Guarnere shout.

"Malarkey!" Bridget turned quickly and what she saw made her heart ram into her throat. Malarkey was running in the open towards the body of a German.

"What the  _fuck_!" She yelled, moving to see him better. He stopped at one of the German bodies and dropped down. Oddly enough, the Germans stopped firing, probably just as dumbfounded as the Americans were.

"Now you stop firing? Beautiful!" Liebgott yelled and O'Carroll watched as Don stayed prone on the field. He was going to get himself killed and that was something she couldn't just sit by and watch.

"Christ, they must think he's a medic or something." Petty yelled and O'Carroll moved slowly to a crouched position. Maybe it was a stupid idea, but it was the only thing she could think of doing.

"He's gonna need a goddamn medic. Bridget, don't do anything stupid!" But Guarnere's warning fell on deaf ears and in the next moment, Bridget was running toward Don, planning on making him keep his promise of not dying on her.

"Malarkey!" She shouted as she ran, he needed to get up now. It worked; for Don, hearing her yell was the spark that made him finally get moving. He jumped up and began running back to safety. Bridget could see the Germans preparing to fire again and so she called out to him again."Get low!" In the next second, she practically collided with him, sliding them both to the ground hard and dodging the hail of bullets that pierced the air where they had just been.

"Jesus Christ!" Malarkey hissed as they hit the ground.

"What the hell are you doin', c'mon!" At the urging of the others, they got up and hauled ass back, dodging bullets as best as they could.

"Let's go!" She was gripping his sleeve tightly, as though to pull him along. Upon reaching the gun, O'Carroll pushed him into cover before following. "You God damned idiot, Malarkey! I can't stop you from dying when you do something like that!" She gestured toward the field and out of the corner of her eye, she saw a red stain on her sleeve caught her attention. Her face paled a little as she looked at it and noticed the blood. That's when her brain registered the pain in her arm. "Oh."

"Forgot your friggin' Luger? You want I should get it for you, you stupid Mick? No offense, Bridget." Guarnere turned to glance at the two of them, noticing the blood as well. "Oh, shit! "

Winters came up to the gun now, wanting to know why the gun hadn't been taken care of yet."Where's Lipton with that TNT?"

"Don't know, sir. We have a bigger problem." He pointed to O'Carroll, her sleeve pretty heavily bloodied now. She had raised her gun again and was attempting to shoot it with using only her right arm.

"O'Carroll!" She gazed at Winters, slightly dazed for a moment. "Let me see your arm!" She grumbled and dropped her weapon to hold out her arm. Winters opened a pack of sulfa powder onto the wound before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pressure bandage to wrap around her arm to help staunch the bleeding. "Can you make it back?"

"I think so, sir, but I really can stay he-"

"You stay here, you'll only make that injury worse, now get back to the assembly area!" His face made it clear that this was not a suggestion, but rather an order that she had no choice but to follow.

"Damn it!" Bridget cursed and jumped out of the trench. She stayed low, crossing the field they had run across at the start of the attack on her stomach in order to avoid getting hit again. She heard a noise near her and stopped, turning her weapon in that direction only to find Peterson crawling fast in her direction. She lowered the carbine, but didn't start moving again. "Peterson, what the hell are you doing?"

"I'm going to talk to Battalion," He continued crawling on by her, the determination on his face obvious. "Maybe they'll actually do something about you since no one else will."

"Right now? Are you fucking serious? You really hate me that much that you're going to leave in the middle of an assault to 'tell on me?'" Bridget yelled at him but he only crawled faster in what was in fact the wrong direction. He reached Lip, who was finally making his way towards the gun, and he patted his arm.

"Hey, Sarge! I'm looking for Battalion headquarters!"

Lipton stared in astonishment at him."Are you kidding?" Peterson shook his head. "It's back that away!" Lipton made a gesture in the direction O'Carroll had been heading anyway.

Peterson raised his head a little to look where Lipton had pointed. "You mean over-" Peterson didn't have time to finish his question as a bullet tore through his helmet and most of his head. Lipton continued on his way, knowing that they needed him at the guns as soon as possible, but O'Carroll remained there for a moment, staring at the now lifeless body. That bullet saved her a lot of trouble, possibly even her life, but she wasn't so sure she felt lucky for that. She didn't want other people dying for her secret. She shook her head and forced herself to keep moving. Later. That would be added to the things she'll deal with later. As soon she was out of any line of fire, Bridget stood up and began running back. She could at least try to be helpful by telling headquarters that they needed ammo badly back there. Thankfully, she ran into Speirs, he would have to be good enough.

"Lieutenant! They need ammo back there and quickly!" Bridget pointed in the direction of the guns. "They're running low and they haven't destroyed all the guns yet."

"I'll take care of it," Speirs nodded at her arm, "Get yourself to an aid station, Sergeant." He ran off to grab ammo and O'Carroll slowly made her way to the aid station. She had done all she could for now. Reaching the aid station, she was happy to see that none other than Doc Roe was there now. She made her way toward him, her eyes tracing over the other injured laying around. She couldn't even imagine being a nurse and being surrounded by this constantly. They would have their fair share of death, there was no doubt about that, but it would be nothing compared to what people working in an aid station would have to deal with day in and day out.

"O'Carroll, hey, you need something?" A voice snapped her focus back to the present and she turned to Roe. He had noticed her standing there and came up to her.

"Doc, my arm." She held out her arm for him to look at. Roe instantly got to work, unwrapping the pressure bandage and carefully rolling up her sleeve so that he could see the wound clearly. He wanted to examine it and then wrap it properly. Bridget watched as he did, her mind reeling as she was finally comprehending the fact she had been shot. "Holy shit...Day one and I've already got hit." O'Carroll griped and looked away from her arm. "Go figure. God, I can't believe this happened."

"It looks like you got lucky, O'Carroll, It's more of a nick than anything. This could have been a lot worse. It's through and through. Didn't hit any bones or anything." He said in a soft voice and O'Carroll knew that this was Roe's polite way of telling her that she didn't need to be whining like she was.  He pulled out a bandage to wrap her arm with. "It'll take a few days to fully heal still, but if you're careful it should be alright. Under normal circumstances, we would still send you out to a hospital for this. I'm guessing that will probably make things more difficult for you though, yeah?"

"Yeah, it would be best to avoid that." O'Carroll laughed softly, but then winced as he wrapped her arm with the bandage. "Just to be safe." She bit her lip and looked at her arm again. "What do I tell Winters? He saw the blood."

"I'll talk to him, O'Carroll. Tell him it was just a minor wound, nothing to worry about, but maybe keep you out of the next attack." He finished wrapping her arm. "All done. Come find me again in an hour or so and I'll take another look at it. Need anything for the pain?"

"Thank you." She sighed in relief and stood up. "Um, it hurts like hell, but I think I'll be okay."

"Alright." She turned to leave, but he quickly stopped her, holding out a small package in her direction. "One last thing. Here are your, um, 'supplies'. I'll do my best to keep getting them from the nurses for you."

"Thank you again." Bridget chuckled and quickly emptied the box to hide its contents in her pockets.

"It's no problem. Now, just remember to be careful." He reminded her once more before he shuffled off. Eager to leave the aid station, O'Carroll hurried out of there to find where she could wait for the rest of Easy Company to return from the assault. The time passed slower than O'Carroll would have liked, but soon familiar faces were coming back down the path. She dropped to the ground and made her way toward them, searching all of the faces to see if everyone made it.

"Hey! Easy Company!" She called with a smile and a wave, jogging up to meet them.

"O'Carroll, still with us I see." Guarnere grinned and pulled her in for a quick hug, patting her back.

"Eh, it was only a flesh wound. It's almost criminal that I'm going to get a Purple Heart for this, actually." Bridget laughed and lifted her arm to show off the bandage to him. "Everyone else alright?"

"Well, you and Popeye both got hit and we lost Peterson and Hall." Bill frowned and looked down. "Just when the kid was starting to grow on me too. Shame." Malarkey had reached them by this point and he was instantly moving in to check that she was okay.

"Damn it, Bridget, are you alright?" He moved to grab her arm to inspect it closer and she let him for a moment before pulling her arm away. "I'm sorry, it's my fault, I shouldn't have run out there, not that you should have followed me either but still-"

"You would have died if I hadn't knocked you down, you know that right?" Bridget chuckled softly and carefully crossed her arms over her chest.

"You could have died too though..."

"But I didn't." She reminded him and looked around. Guarnere had already continued on, not wanting to be involved in any argument that might happen. O'Carroll knew it wouldn't turn to that again, even if he did push his luck she was just too exhausted to get angry. "Let's just... it's in the past now, alright?"

He sighed in resignation. "You're right." Bridget was relieved to hear that. They began walking as well, not wanting to get left behind. "I'll try to not be so stupid in the future, alright?"

"Yeah, that might be best. Even if it is part of your charm." Bridget laughed and reached over to ruffle his hair. "Maybe at least keep the stupidity out of the battlefield from now on."

He put his helmet on quickly so that she wouldn't be able to mess with his hair further. It wasn't as though he didn't like the gesture, in fact, the problem was he actually really, _really_ liked it. "So, you think I have a charm, do you?" There was a shit-eating grin on his face now that made Bridget groan loudly.

"God no, you're awful." They looked at each other before bursting into laughter as they joined the others.  

* * *

 

When night had fallen, it was almost impossible to believe that only one day had gone by since they had boarded the airplanes. It felt as though so much had changed already there was no way it could have only been 24 hours. Either way, they were all glad for the hours rest they had now before they had to move on once more. Most of Easy Company was still missing at this point, all scattered across Normandy, but for the few of them who were together, they stuck close together. Maybe a little too close as they were all now huddled in the back of a covered truck. As if they all didn't smell bad enough individually, added to the mix was whatever the hell it was that Malarkey was cooking for them. O'Carroll scratched the outside of her bandage before pointing at the cartridge box. "That really smells, you know." Bridget leaned in to get a better look in the box. It looked just about as bad as it smelled too.

"Not any worse than you do, Bridget. Now if you don't mind, I'm trying to cook here." Malarkey pushed her away with a soft chuckle and returned to stirring what was in the makeshift pot. Liebgott stood up, the smell and the tight space finally getting to him, and started to make his way out of the truck.

"What's up, Liebgott?" Buck asked, watching the man as he struggled toward the exit.

"I don't want to die in the back of this damn truck, is what."

"C'mon, you're stepping on my legs!" Toye complained as Liebgott climbed over him to get out of the truck.

"Jesus, let me out of here." Liebgott crawled finally made it to the flap and opened it so that he could jump out. O'Carroll was tempted to follow him and get out of the truck as well, but she was starving and rather looking forward to the bottle of alcohol they had managed to scrounge up. She could suffer a little longer for that.

"Light, Light discipline." Lipton scolded. The light discipline was the reason they were under the cover like this anyway. "Guarnere, close the flap."

"Let the Krauts cook their own goddamn food." Bill groused as he closed the flap, shutting them away from any fresher air they might have had. "How are we doing, Malark?"

Malarkey tasted what he was cooking in the cartridge box and gave a small nod. "We're doing good."

"Doing good?" Buck asked, peering in the box as Malarkey returned it to over the fire. The look of disgust on his face showed clearly what he thought about that assessment. "What the hell do you know about cooking, you're Irish." Buck sat back in his seat.

"Sir, if you have a reservation someplace else, I'd be happy to go with you."

"Just start dishing it."

"Ladies first." Malarkey stood up to dish out O'Carroll's plate out first.

"Aw shit, c'mon Malark. O'Carroll here is just as much of a man as any of us." Bill laughed as Bridget shot a fake glare in his direction.

"Quit your complaining. She got shot today anyway, I think that warrants first serving." Malarkey said as he moved to give Buck some food next.

"It's good to know getting shot has its perks." She took a bite of the food, if that's what you could call it, and was surprised to find that it was nowhere near as bad as it could have been. "Well, I'll be damned, Malark, this isn't half bad once you get past the smell." He beamed at her approval and did his best to evenly distribute the food to the rest of them. They all ate quickly, just as they were taught to in basic, and were soon passing around the bottle for everyone to drink from.

"Jesus Christ, give me some air." Guarnere opened the flap and stuck his head out for a few moments before closing it again. Not even a minute later, Winters appeared under the flap.

"Evening." He greeted the men and they all turned to him.

"Hello, sir."

"Did something die in here?" Winters' nose scrunched in disgust and everyone started to snicker again.

"Yeah, Malarkey's ass." Bridget said leading to Don lightly punching her shoulder.

"Any word on Lieutenant Meehan yet, sir?" Buck asked seriously, putting a bit of a damper on everyone's mood. It was something they all wanted to know the answer to, however.

"No, not yet." Winters said softly. No one from Meehan's stick had shown up yet and something told them all that no one ever would.

"Don't that make you are commanding officer, sir?" Guarnere asked as he looked at Winters with a new-found respect from the attack today.

"Yeah, it does." Winters looked at Guarnere, his question silent, but everyone knew he was asking if that was going to be a problem. Guarnere nodded at him with a small smile; it wouldn't be.

"Sir?" Toye offered him the bottle .

"Joe, the Lieutenant don't drink." Guarnere's voice was lacking the disgust it had when he had mentioned this earlier that day. Winters surprised them all by grabbing the bottle.

"It's been a day of firsts." Winters took a sip and made a face as the liquid burned down his throat. "Don't you think, Guarnere?" He nodded towards Guarnere and handed the bottle to him.

"Yes, sir." O'Carroll watched as Guarnere took the bottle from Winters and took a sip, doing her best to hid the grin that was on her face. She was glad to see that the two of them had gotten past their differences. Bill passed the bottle to O'Carroll.

"Carry on." Winters moved out from under the flap.

"Goodnight, sir."

Suddenly, Winters popped back in. "Oh, Sergeant?"

"Sir?"

"I'm not a Quaker." O'Carroll, who had just been taking a sip from the bottle, had to take a huge gulp in order to not spray her drink everywhere. Everyone started to laugh once Winters had disappeared again. Bridget passed the drink on and reached over to grab Guarnere's shoulder, shaking him a little.

"If he's from Lancaster county, he's probably a Mennonite." Bill laughed at his own joke and O'Carroll scoffed.

"What's a Mennonite?" Toye asked.

"You really don't know what a Mennonite is?" Bill shook his head, fully ready to explain it to his friend.

"How about we skip the theology lesson and just enjoy the short amount of time we have left." Buck laughed.

"In this smell? Nah, I'm out of here." O'Carroll crawled out over Lipton and Guarnere. "See you later, boys." To no one's surprise, Malarkey followed close behind.

"Can't let O'Carroll get lost now." He said as he jumped out of the truck, closing the flap behind him. They could hear the others laughing on the other side of the flap, but they ignored it and started off down the street. They walked in silence a little before finding a semi-secluded place to sit down. Bridget rest her head back against the wall.

"Never get shot, Don. It's a pain in the ass." She complained as her fingers went to scratch around the bandage again. It didn't really hurt now, but it certainly itched like hell.

"Well damn, there goes my weekend plans." Don chuckled and moved to take her hand away from her arm. "Stop scratching. That won't help any."

"Alright, alright." She didn't move to take her hand out of his right away. In fact, she turned her in his so that she could hold it for a moment, just as they had on the plane; she had been through a lot today and she was just looking for the same comfort she had felt earlier. Malarkey watched their hands closely until she gave his a light squeeze and let go. "Today's been quite a day, hasn't it?" Bridget closed her eyes as she sighed softly.

"To say the least." He was quiet after that so she opened her eyes to look at him. His lips were pressed tightly together as he stared at the wall across from them, obviously deep in thought.

"What are you thinking about, Don?"

"I just..." He chuckled at himself and looked at her. “I was… When I saw you running toward me… ” O'Carroll frowned slightly, not sure this was a conversation she really wanted to have. She shouldn't have asked. “I was terrified you were going to die and that it was going to be my fault.” 

“Don…”

“Hold on, just a moment. I’m not mad you did that. I’m not trying to scold you or make you feel bad, I promise. I’m trying to say thank you. I did something stupid and it took you doing stupid in return to help me and I appreciate that. So, thank you." He looked at her, the slightest smile on his lips. "I also want you to know that I would do the same thing for you. If you ever do something stupid, I will too just to help you." Don paused for a second before continuing. "Even if it kills me.” She breathed in sharply and looked down at the ground. This was something she already knew and she also knew that she would do the same, but saying it was different than knowing. Her reaction made his smile fade and he looked away as well.  

“Thank you… Really.” Bridget finally muttered. “Let's just hope it never comes to that, yeah?” What she didn’t say was that she didn’t want him to ever die for her. Because that would mean she would have to live on without him and the thought of that made her chest feel like it was being crushed. She wasn’t sure that was a life worth living but she couldn't admit to those kinds of things to herself much less to him. Not here, not now.

"Yeah..." He said softly as he watched her. "How about you try to get some sleep in the time we have left? I'll keep an eye on you."

Bridget nodded slightly and closed her eyes. A moment to rest sounded really good right about then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had some trouble with this chapter, but I hope everyone is enjoying it so far. Constructive criticism and comments are appreciated.


	7. Taking Carentan

Two days passed since D-Day and the company had been moving from town to town, Easy Company men slowly trickling in all the while. Now that enough men had found the Company,  O'Carroll was finally in command of a squad in the 2nd platoon. In addition to that, her arm was healing nicely. Her hope was that it would be fully healed by their next major offensive so she wouldn't have to be worried about it reopening, or worse, being made to sit out. She wasn't the only one promoted in 2nd platoon either. Guarnere was now the platoon's main sergeant and Don was now the sergeant in command of the mortar squad.  She appreciated this, knowing she could work well with the both of them and that they would be excellent leaders in their own right.

At present, they were waiting to hear which town was to be their next objective. Don was catching up with Skip, his closest friend outside of O'Carroll, now that Muck had managed to find his way back to the company just as Bridget was catching up with her friend, Luz. Don watched Bridget briefly as she laughed at something Luz had said. She hadn't done much in the way of laughing these past few days so it was a welcome sight to say the least. He did feel the slightest twinge of jealousy as he watched them, however, something that didn't surprise him, but he scolded himself for. It didn't matter who was making her happy, as long as she was happy.

"Don, did you hear me?" Skip asked as he hit Don's arm. He knew the man hadn't heard him and he knew exactly why, but he wasn't going to call him out on it; at least not yet.

Don's attention snapped back to Muck and he shook his head a little. "You, er... No. I'm sorry I didn't hear it." The back of neck heated up. He shouldn't allow himself to get distracted like that, it was just the kind of thing he was trying to avoid.

Muck rolled his eyes. "Whatever, it doesn't matter anyway. Lookie over there though." Don looked in the direction Muck was pointing and smiled to see more of Easy Company appearing, Floyd Talbert and Shifty Powers among them.

"Hey, fellas." Talbert called as they reached the group of Easy men standing around.

Luz lightly set a hand on Bridget's arm, his way of telling her to hold on, and then moved to greet the newcomers. "Well, look who decided to show up, Floyd." The two shook hands.

"Hi there, Luz, we thought we'd never find you guys."

"Hey, Tab, get a load of this." Liebgott joined the conversation and held up the Nazi flag he had been showing off to everybody whenever he got the chance. Tab inspected the flag."You like that?"

"Yeah, it's the real stuff, man." Tab gave a slight nod, though he acted unimpressed.

Liebgott was grinning with pride as he crumpled the flag back into a ball to stuff into his bag. "Yeah, of course."

"You like this?" Talbert pulled out his own trophy, some large camouflage fabric, Don wasn't sure exactly what it was. Tab didn't get a chance to revel in any pride however, because O'Carroll was quickly pulling out her own thing to show off.

"Oh, come on Floyd, that's weak." They all turned to Bridget who was smiling and holding something in her hands. "Now, this is a souvenir." She held up her parachute showing off the gigantic rip slashed through it.

"Oh, nice, that's a beauty, Sarge!" Luz laughed as Bridget folded the parachute so she could return it to her bag.

"I know. I mean, I didn't think so as I was actually falling, but hey, it turned out alright in the end."

"Whoa wait, that was your parachute?" Tab asked before letting out a low whistle. He couldn't hide that he was pretty impressed with it. "Did you jump into a blender or something, O'Carroll?"

"Aw, don't be jealous, Floyd." She winked at him with a laugh. "I'm sure you'll get a souvenir worth showing off soon enough." Tab shook his head and found a place to put his bag down, ready to sit down and be comfortable for as long as he could.

"My Luger's gonna put you all to shame when I get it." Hoobler piped in causing many of those gathered around to groan.

"Please, Hoobs, we get it. You're worse than Malarkey here," Luz walked over to Don to rest a hand on his shoulder; Don was quick to shrug it off. "Who apparently not only almost got himself killed to try to get one, but also poor O'Carroll here. Ain't that right, Bridget?" Don felt the back of his neck heating up again. The last thing he wanted was to be reminded that _he_ was the reason Bridget had a bandage on her arm.

"Remind me not to stand near O'Carroll in a battle." Tab chuckled as he stretched out his legs and leaned back against a nearby wall. "She's got shitty luck."

"No, no. You got it all wrong." Bridget glanced at Don with a soft smile. She didn't want him to keep beating himself up over what had happened. They had worked it out already, it didn't need to keep being an issue. "See, I just wanted to get a battle scar. They are considered sexy, you know."

"Yeah, on men. Not on broads." Luz smirked as a chorus of 'Oh's' went around the group. Bridget considered his words for a brief moment before responding.

"Okay, you got me there Luz. Scars are for tough, badass men..." She paused for a second before pointing at him. "Which explains why you don't have any." A louder chorus of 'Oh's' went around which made O'Carroll smirk as well. There was always an ongoing competition between her and Luz and they were always just about even. She moved to him and put her hands on his shoulders, her face serious again. "It's okay, I can try to teach you, but I can't make any promises. You might be a lost cause." Maybe O'Carroll was slightly better.

Luz was clearly ready to say something else when Lieutenant Welsh called out across the square. "Let's go, 1st platoon!" All of Easy Company sighed and slowly began getting up. Even those not in 1st made their way over; Easy was a little short on leadership at the moment and it wasn't as though they had anything better to do. "Easy's moving out. On your feet." Everyone shuffled over and gathered around Welsh. "Listen up! It'll be dark soon. I want light and noise discipline from here on. No talking, no smoking-"

"No smiling, no breathing."

"O'Carroll, shut up. And no playing grab-fanny with the man in front of you, Luz." Welsh chuckled softly.

Luz elbowed Bridget and leaned forward to whisper to her."Only if you're the one in front of me." Luz winked and she snorted, shoving him away from her.

"Oh, please. You know I would break your hand if you tried." She said, still laughing. Joking as she was, they both knew she would actually do it if he tried. O'Carroll was the one woman in a company of men, what else was she supposed to do?

"So, where we headed to, Lieutenant, huh?"

"We're taking Carentan."

"Well, that sounds like fun."

 "It's the only place where armor from Omaha and Utah Beach can link up and head inland. Until we take Carentan, they're stuck on the sand." Welsh informed the group.

"So, no pressure, guys." Bridget said, pointing at one of the members of her squad. "Better shape up now, you."  

"General Taylor's sending the whole division." Welsh said, continuing to ignore the sidebar conversations.

Luz scoffed loudly. "Remember, boys..." He said in his best General Taylor voice, which was pretty damn good. "Give me three days, and three nights of hard fighting and you will be relieved." A chorus of 'yeahs' followed. They could only hope they would be relieved.  

"Lieutenant, Lieutenant, I'll take point." Hoobler raised his hand as he moved to the front of the group.

"Corporal Hoobler will be lead scout. Blithe, glad you could join us."

"Thank you, sir." Albert Blithe said, sounding a little dazed.

"1st platoon, fall in behind Fox Company. You people from 2nd and 3rd platoon, follow us. Let's shake a leg." They followed Welsh's orders and started heading out of the town to make their way toward Carentan.

"Another thing to remember, boys," Luz began, impersonating Taylor once more. "Flies spread disease. So, keep yours closed." Everyone laughed loudly as 1st Platoon made its way forward and the others held back to follow behind.

"Trust him," Bridget spoke up again, this was an opportunity she couldn't miss. "He knows from personal experience." Score: Luz, 0. Bridget, 2.

* * *

 

It took them four days to reach Carentan. After all of that marching, they would have been happy to see it if it wasn't filled with Germans, of course. Easy Company was crouched on the road, getting ready for the attack. Someone in command had the brilliant idea to send Easy to go right up the main road into town, which made no sense to most of the men. If the town was in fact occupied, they couldn't very well just stroll down main street to get in. They all trusted Winters to be able to get them through it, however. O'Carroll shifted from foot to foot uneasily. The town was quiet, all that could be heard was the sound of dogs. That was never a good sign.

"Let's go 1st, let's go." Welsh whispered and gestured for his platoon to follow him. The attack was starting. His platoon began following him, trying to stay low but go quick at the same time.

"Go, go, go!" Winters told the other two platoon and so they all began running down the road. As was expected, they suddenly being fired on; the road acting as a perfect funnel for the German machine gun.

"In the ditch!" Someone yelled and the soldiers began to jump to the side, just wanting to get off the road.

"Incoming!" Bridget caught a glimpse of Luz and Welsh making it to behind a building by themselves before dropping down to avoid fire. Her heart began racing again, but she didn't move to the ditch, knowing it wouldn't help to hide there.

"Let's go, Easy." Winters yelled, trying to get the men moving again. The last thing they needed to do was be stationary.

"Get those MGs moving, will ya!" Colonel Strayer yelled at the men as though it wasn't partially his fault that they were in this position in the first place. Don, who was near the man was tempted to walk over and hit the man with the butt of his gun.

"Let's get them out of there!"

"They're out in the open for Pete's sake!" Nixon yelled and Malarkey turned to see who he was talking about. 'They' meant Winters and, his heart dropped, Bridget. The two of them were now standing in the middle of the road, yelling at everyone to get moving.

"Go, go!" Winters was yelling.

"Get your asses out of that ditch! C'mon, so we can kill those fuckers!" O'Carroll was screaming. She had seen what the Lieutenant was doing and followed his lead. She was louder than Winters. Much louder. Winters glanced at her for only a second.

"Get going, Buck." Winters lightly hit the back of the other Lieutenant who had remained crouched on the road. "Follow me Easy!"

"You heard the man, c'mon guys! Get the hell out of that ditch." Bridget attempted to get her squad moving, but most of them were still staying low in the ditch, not wanting to risk getting shot.

"Move out!"

"If I can stand out here, so can you!"

"Move out, men! Go." Bullets were whizzing by the two of them. Don stared for a moment. If someone had told him about what those two were doing, he wouldn't have believed them. He could scarcely believe his own eyes now.

"C'mon! Let's teach those bastards a lesson!" Bridget began pushing her men out of the ditch and into the field by the side of the road, that got them to start moving.

"Move out, move out! Get yourselves out of that ditch!" Winters jumped in and grabbed some one, trying to pull them up. "We have men getting killed out there, Blithe! Move!" He began hitting people with his helmet and kicking them, anything to get them moving.

And finally, everyone was moving. Instead of going down the road, however, they all made their way through the fields on either side of the road. Had they done this sooner, they probably could have had a better element of surprise, but that wasn't the case. The case was that they now had to deal with heavy machine gun fire that was pinning them down and stopping them from getting into Carentan.

"2nd Platoon, on me! On me!" Lipton shouted. O'Carroll and a good number of other 2nd Platoon men did follow him, but those that had been on the other side of the road hadn't heard the order. They moved quickly, hoping to be able to flank the machine gun and take it out as soon as possible. They walked along a building and stopped near the corner. Lipton, O'Carroll, and Guarnere gathered together as they tried to figure out their next move.

"We've got to take that damn MG out. No one is getting into this town as long as it's still there." O'Carroll said before peering around the corner briefly to get a better look. She pulled back quickly, but she wasn't quite quick enough.  While she didn't get shot, the movement was enough to alert a sniper to their presence and now he kept his rifle trained on the corner. From his cover, Lipton began firing at the building, hoping to hit one of the Germans hiding inside.

One of the soldiers moved forward to point out another German to him. "There's one in the upper right wi-" He had stepped out too far and the sniper had hit his mark.

"Medic!" O'Carroll called as Guarnere helped her pull the man back into cover. "We need a medic over here!"

"We need to take care of that God dammed sniper." Guarnere grunted before returning to behind Lipton, leaving O'Carroll attempted to do what she could for the injured soldier until a medic arrived.

"You're going to be alright." Bridget murmured as she fumbled with a bandage and trying to keep pressure on the wound at the same time. "You're going to be okay. Medic!" She called again and finally saw a man bearing a medic's cross making his way to them.

"Sergeant, move out of the way, let me in here." He took the bandage from O'Carroll's blood covered hands and all but pushed her out of the way. She let out a shaky breath and rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand before remembering the blood. She wiped her hands on her pants before picking up her carbine and moving to Guarnere and Lipton.

"How are we doing?" Her voice cracked ever so slightly, but she doubted anyone would notice in the chaos. It had been one thing when she had been injured, but to see someone else in that bad of shape... it wasn't an easy thing. It only strengthened her resolve, however.

"Shifty took out the sniper! We're gonna try to-"

"Hold on," Lipton stopped Bill and watched as the MG turned on where Shifty was. "We need to go now! He's distracted." They were about to make their move when they saw someone else running straight at the window with a hand grenade. It was Lieutenant Welsh.

On the other side of town, Malarkey watched the same thing from where he was pinned down in the grass with Muck and the other separated 2nd Platoon boys. "Jesus Christ!" He muttered in disbelief. It was official, he was in a company with a bunch of insane people. Between Welsh, Winters, and O'Carroll, they had enough crazy to fill an asylum. However crazy Welsh's actions were, however, it did the job and now the men could start moving into the town. Groups moved from building to building, clearing them as they went. It wasn't long until the artillery started hitting the city, further adding to the chaos. The NCOs continued to do their best to keep everything under control, however.

"They got us zeroed! Spread it out! Spread it out! Go!" Don looked toward the yelling and saw Lipton running down a set of stairs. Malarkey and Muck quickly moved from the street to take cover by a building, still watching Lipton as he yelled for everyone to get out of the street as he stood in the middle of the street himself.

Nearby, O'Carroll were yelling similar orders, but she was staying close to a building. "Keep moving! Stay out of the streets!" O'Carroll called out as she dropped to her knee to take a shot at a German soldier not too far from her. "Let's keep moving, men!" She spotted Lipton and started to make her way in his direction."C'mon, C'mon take your own advice." She found herself muttering.  

 At the sound of another explosion, everyone jumped to the ground. This one had been close. When Malarkey moved back to his feet, he saw Lipton on the ground. "Shit!"

"Lip!" Don recognized the voice immediately and watched as both Talbert and Bridget ran to Lipton's aid. Talbert instantly set about tying a cloth around his arm and Bridget began talking to him, trying to put him at ease. Lip had eyes for one thing, though. Still watching the scene, Don began moving forward again. He watched as Bridget ripped a small hole in Lip's pants in order to check that everything was alright. He nodded, obviously relieved; evidentially, everything was just as it should be. She and Tab helped him up and began to make their way to safety. Turning his attention back to the assault a moment too late, Don ran straight into Muck.

"Shit, I'm sorry." Don grumbled, but Muck didn't seem to mind that much; in fact, he even smiled just slightly.

"Stop your dawdling, Mal, let's go." Don nodded and followed after him, resuming their moving from building to building, shooting any Kraut they spotted. Under an arch they stopped, taking shelter for a brief moment. "Hey, Malark." Skip said, getting Don's attention and gesturing out to the street. "You see what I'm seeing?" Don bent forward to look. What he was seeing was a chaplain kneeling over somebody in the middle of the street. He was holding a rosary and a bible, giving the man a final prayer.

"Crazy fools the Irish." Don shook his head and ran to the next column to fire, taking down a few soldiers in the process.

"You should know." Muck said as he followed behind his friend, shooting at the soldiers he had missed.

"Look at Welsh and O'Carroll too." Don chuckled as they took cover again.

"Oh, I think you look at O'Carroll enough for the both of us." Skip was smirking when Don turned to look at him.

"What the hell are you tal-"

"Oh, come on Malarkey. I think I know you well enough by now to notice that. Penkala's noticed too." He leaned around the column and took a few quick shots before pulling back again. Muck lightly hit Don's arm. "You like her and you have since basic training."

"Now is not a good time for this conversation." Malarkey grunted and pulled away to shoot around the arch again. For almost two years now Don had been struggling with the way he felt about O'Carroll and here Muck was having no trouble just saying it.

"Well," Skip nudged him again and they both moved to the next arch. "If it makes you feel better, we are pretty sure she feels the same about you, but she's either just as clueless as you are or is too afraid to show it."

This made Don pause for a second, his heart fluttering just slightly. He had considered the possibility before, but never very seriously. They were here to fight a war, it wasn't exactly the best time to be daydreaming about a fellow soldier. "We are kind of in the middle of a war, you know, and she is supposed to be a he, remember? What makes you think that now is the best time for us to be thinking about that?"

"Yeah, yeah, let's just get going then. I can harass you about it later." Skip started off again and Don followed close behind. Even amidst all of the shooting and yelling, he couldn't help but smile. Maybe it wasn't the best time for anything like that, but Muck had just confirmed what he had been secretly hoping for.

Though it felt like ages, it wasn't too long before the Germans began retreating and Easy was able to secure the areas of Carentan that they were supposed to. By the time Bridget was leaving the aid station after helping Lipton, there wasn't much left to be done. She was almost disappointed, but seeing the blood of the soldier from earlier that still stained her hands stopped that. It was better for this to be over rather than her getting a chance to shoot a few more Krauts. She helped to capture or kill the few strays, but soon enough, Easy Company was regrouping and taking a moment to breathe in the town they had just conquered.

"Berlin by Christmas." Malarkey had found O'Carroll again and both of them were silently relieved that the other was okay. Don was tempted to say something about what Skip had said earlier, but the two of them were now sitting in a group with Muck, Penkala, More, and Blithe; it would have to wait for later. For now, everyone was listening to More as he talked, but no one agreed with him. "That's how I see it."

"I don't know about that." Bridget shook her head as she lay down on the steps, using her pack as a pillow. "Something tells me it isn't going to be that easy. No sense in getting overconfident."

"O'Carroll, don't be such a pessimist." More kicked her shoulder lightly and she reached back to smack his leg without looking; he easily dodged it.

"No, I'm with her, you're full of it." Penkala said with a shake of his head.

"Oh, God." They all looked at Muck only to find him staring in disgust at the tube of cheese in his hand. "This Kraut cheese tastes like... it stinks." He laughed and was quick to put the cap back on.

"Bread's stale too." Penkala held up a piece for him which Muck snatched instantly.

"Give me that." Muck examined the bread before taking a bite. It was stale, but it was a whole lot better than the cheese had had tried. So much for the land of fine food.

"Yes, sir," More continued as he looked out across the square. "The way we came in town today and took over, you know, it don't seem like Jerry's got too much fight left in him."

"You still going on about that?" O'Carroll groaned and closed her eyes. She held up her hand to shade her face from the sun.

"Hey, More, don't get hit in the face when Jerry throws in the sponge, alright?" Malarkey said with a soft chuckle.

"You mark my words, Mal, Berlin by Christmas." More sounded so sure of himself, which maybe that was a good thing, but O'Carroll wasn't so sure why he was so convinced. Maybe they had taken the town easily, but that didn't necessarily mean anything.

"Enjoy it while it lasts." Everyone looked up quickly to see who was talking. O'Carroll opened her eyes to see Speirs standing there. She tensed instantly. While Bridget didn't particularly mourn the deaths of the POWs, it took a cold blooded killer to do what he had done. "We'll be moving out, soon."

"Out of town, Lieutenant? Already?" More said.

"That's right." Malarkey and O'Carroll both shifted uneasily as they watched Speirs. He watched them in return for a moment before walking through the group to get down the stairs, Penkala standing up so he could get by.

"Don't they know we're just getting settled here?" All eyes turned on More, Speirs' included. O'Carroll held her breath as she waited for something to happen. Without a word, Speirs turned back and walked away. Penkala returned to his seat and let out a heavy breath. That could have ended poorly.

"Nice, groucho." Muck chastised with a frown.

"What?" More asked, apparently the stories didn't scare everyone.

"Real smart. You know, you're taking your life into your own hands. Ain't that right?" Skip nodded at O'Carroll and Malarkey.

"I told you, we didn't actually see it." Don sighed and looked down at the ground.

"We only heard the shots." Bridget sat up again. "Made the most logical assumption, you know?"

"What, Speirs shooting the prisoners or the Sergeant in his own platoon?" Penkala asked as he grabbed a knife from his bag to cut the apple he had. This grabbed everyone's attention, disbelief on all of their faces.

"Sergeant?" More asked.

"What?" Muck said dubiously. "I didn't hear that one."

"Wait, wait, he shot one of his own guys?" Malarkey leaned in, interested in hearing that story.

"Holy shit." Bridget muttered, searching for Speirs in the direction he had gone.

"Well, supposedly the guy was drunk and refused to go on a patrol. Who knows if it's true?" Penkala explained. It was a meager explanation and they all wanted to hear more, but Penkala's shrug let them know he didn't have anything more to say.

"I think it's bullshit." Bridget shook her head. "No way he could get away with that."

"Well, I know a guy who said an eyewitness," Muck threw a rock at Don who returned fire. "Told him Speirs hosed those prisoners."

"Why?" Blithe spoke up for the first time and they turned to look back at him."What for?"

Skip perked up at the chance to recount the story once again. "On D-Day, Speirs comes across a group of Kraut prisoners digging a hole or some such. Under guard and all. He breaks out a pack of smokes. Passes them out. He even gives 'em a light. Then, all of a sudden, he swings up his Thompson..." Muck imitated a shooting Thompson. "And he hoses 'em. I mean, goddamn, gives 'em smokes first?" He took a drag from his own cigarette before continuing. "Mmm, you see that's why I don't believe he really did it."

"Oh, you don't believe it?" Don asked, sounding highly offended that his friend didn't believe him.

"None of the guards had a Thompson, Muck." Bridget interjected.

"I heard he didn't do it." Penkala added, causing Malarkey and O'Carroll to only shake their heads. They were the two that had been there, it didn't matter what other people had to say on the matter.

"Oh, no, no, it was him alright." More said in a dark voice. "But there were more than 8 guys, was more like 20." Bridget thought hard about the prisoners, but she couldn't remember how many there had been, she had been too distracted by Lukas.

"Hell of a shot." Muck said. Eight or twenty, this statement remained true.

"All except one guy, who he left alone." More placed the cigarette back into his mouth and shook his head.

"Well," Penkala tossed the apple core aside before continuing. "All I know, from what I heard, he took that last 105 on D-Day practically by himself. Running through MG fire like a maniac." Malarkey was nodding before Penkala had even finished speaking.

"Yeah, that I did see." Don said. Bridget frowned and turned to look at him. He quickly answered her unspoken question. "It was after you left for the aid station."

"On his own?" More sounded equally impressed and disbelieving.

"Yeah." Don confirmed.

"I don't care if any of the other stuff's true." Penkala said, earning a few murmurs of agreement.

"I kind of do." Bridget piped in. While she did respect the fact he took the 105 on his own, one of the stories still bothered her. "I don't want to be the Sergeant he decides to shoot." She laughed softly.

"Hey, Albert," Muck threw something at Blithe in order to get his attention. "What do you think?"

"I don't know. I'm gonna have to take everybody's word for it. I didn't see any of it." He spoke softly, not really wanting to add to the gossip of what did or didn't happen. Either way, they didn't get to discuss the subject any further because as Speirs had promised, it was time to move out.

"Let's go. 1st Platoon, weapons on me. We're moving out." Welsh yelled.

"Aw man." Bridget covered her face with a groan. While he only said 1st platoon, they knew it meant everyone had to get moving.

"Come on, Blithe, get up." More kicked him lightly to get the man moving before starting toward the rest of Easy.

"C'mon, Bridget." Malarkey had already stood up and grabbed her hand to pull her to her feet. She thanked him and set about grabbing all of her things. She was about to follow him towards the rest of the group, when Muck grabbed her arm lightly, stopping her.

"Hey, Bridget." His voice was low and serious, so she listened closely. He looked around before looking straight into her eyes. "You should tell him."

"What?" She instantly turned her head to glance at Don, negating any confusion she attempted to show. Of course someone had noticed. Just because she had been denying it herself, it didn't make it not true.

"I know you are probably thinking it would be stupid to during a war and all, but I it would give both of you more to fight for." Muck glanced towards Don as well, making sure he didn't notice them lagging behind.

"Skip, I don-"

"Don't try to lie to me." He chuckled and reached out to lightly grasp her arm. "Just promise me you will think about talking to him at least, okay?"

"Muck..."

"Promise."

O'Carroll sighed and stared down at her feet. What sense was there in a continued denial? "Alright, alright. I'll think about it, you bastard." She laughed and Muck grinned wide.

"Let's move out then." The two of them hurried to catch up with the rest of the group before their absence was noticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated. Thank you for reading!


	8. The Battle of Bloody Gulch

As they marched out of Carentan, Bridget couldn't help but repeat what Muck had said to her over and over again in her head. It would give them something to fight for. It made sense and yet it wasn't something she had considered before. Of course, she hadn't exactly let herself consider it. She had been content with simply ignoring it all and hoping that it would pass. Well, content wasn't exactly the right word. She had _resigned_ to the fact that ignoring her less than platonic feelings for Malarkey was the best option, or so it had seemed. Bridget had really thought that what she felt was something that would fade away. That eventually, her heart would stop racing when he was close or that she would stop finding so much comfort in his touch. She thought that eventually, she would be able to just continue on as though nothing was different. Malarkey was just another one of her friends that she cared about, not for. She should have known that wasn't the case the moment she ran out to save him on D-Day. When her one thought was how she did not want to live in a world without Donald Malarkey, she should have known. Yet it wasn't until Skip said something that she accepted that that this was not something that would simply refuse to leave. God, what an awful feeling, she thought; being fully aware of how much someone meant to you. It only made it worse when either of you could die at any moment.

Bridget looked up, letting the rain hit her face. She wished she could go back to ignoring it, but she knew it wouldn't change anything. She had told herself that ignoring it would be the best option because then it couldn't get in the way of the war they were fighting, but she still had acted stupidly even when she had denied her feelings. Ignoring it did nothing to help. Give them both something more to fight for... It made sense. Wanting to work harder to ensure the survival of the other. It could be a good thing for the both of them. Or it could be an even bigger distraction than it already was.

"O'Carroll?" A voice pulled her from her silent wallowing and she looked over to see who was talking. It was Joe Toye looking curiously at her. Oh God, what had she done now?

"Yeah, Toye?"

"What would you be doing if you hadn't signed up?" He asked and Bridget sighed softly to herself. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but this she could handle. "Like, what if you hadn't been able to fake a note and get here?" Two years in and this was actually the first time one of the guys had asked her this.

"Well, I wouldn't be getting shot at for one." She chuckled softly and gave a shrug. "Um, I don't really know." Her brow furrowed as she thought. Sure this was something she had considered before, but never seriously. "I'm sure I still would have done whatever I could to support the war effort. Be a nurse, work in a factory, something like that. Although, my mother's dream is for me to be a housewife so she likely could have married me off to a 4F by now." 

"I really can't imagine you as a housewife." Toye laughed and shook his head. "I also can't imagine you getting roped into some marriage you want no part of. You're a stubborn son of a bitch."

This made O'Carroll really laugh. "True, but you've never met my mother. She's just as stubborn and about a thousand times more persuasive. And she's absolutely terrifying when she's angry."

"Oh, so that's where you get it from." Toye said. Bridget cut him a look, but they were both soon laughing again. The conversation was a nice distraction from her thoughts. Allowing herself to get lost in thoughts was exactly the kind of thing she wanted to avoid. An even larger distraction came when their conversation was cut off by the sound of gunfire. The soldiers instantly dropped down to the ground and raised their guns. "Incoming! Contact right! Get in the hedgerow!" One of the Lieutenants yelled and all of the men began to make their way to the clump of trees on their right.

"Stay low!" Bridget yelled at her squad as they ran and found their place along a small ridge.  They instantly began firing across the field, attempting to hit the German soldiers that lay hidden in the trees on the other side. Thankfully, the shooting died before night had fallen, a relief for Easy Company. It did mean, however, that they would have to dig for the night and then fight again when day broke. That meant an uneasy night's sleep for everyone because who knew what exactly the morning would have in store for them? Bridget made sure her squad would know where to find her before returning to the foxhole her and Malarkey would be sharing for the night. The sound of Germans singing loudly and off-key drifted across the field, grating on O'Carroll's nerves. As if the rain wasn't bad enough, they had to deal with that as well.

"I wish they would stop singing." Bridget grumbled, dropping into the foxhole to sit down next to Don. He shifted to glance back at the field as though he would be able to see through the darkness.

"They are pretty horrible." Malarkey said, though he seemed far less bothered by it. That man had the patience of a saint in comparison to O'Carroll. "Bridget, you should get some sleep." Don looked at her again, a soft smile on his face. "We've got a long day ahead of us."

"That sounds lik-" She began, but stopped the moment she heard a rustling in the trees. Her and Don sat up, more alert. That was when they saw a shadow approaching their foxhole. "Flash." Bridget hissed out.

"Thunder." The correct response was given, but it sounded slurred. Bridget squinted, trying to make out the face as the man slipped into their foxhole.

"Lieutenant Welsh, that you?"

"O'Carroll and Malarkey. You two are practically inseparable." It was Welsh, alright, and he smelled like a brewery. Bridget and Don shared a brief look. "How are you two doing this  wonderful night?"

"Fine, sir." Bridget said as she looked at the Lieutenant again.

"Here, have a drink." He held out his canteen to her and she eyed it warily. If there was one thing she was certain about, it was that the canteen definitely did not contain water.  

"Um-"

"Don't make me order you, Sergeant." Welsh chuckled, but Bridget wasn't sure that he wasn't serious. She took the canteen from him. The burn of the alcohol made her cringe a little as it went down her throat and she quickly passed the canteen on to Malarkey. Don took a swig and offered the drink back to Welsh.

"Thank you, sir." Don said as the man took the canteen back to take a long drink of his own. Welsh stayed silent for a moment, the two Sergeants sitting there awkwardly as he considered the drink in front of him.

"Well," He finally let out a soft sigh and stood up. "I gotta go continue my rounds." Welsh pulled himself out of the foxhole and turned to them one last time. "Stay outta trouble, you two."

"You too, Lieutenant." Malarkey said and the two friends watched as the Lieutenant disappeared once more into the darkness. "Wow." Malarkey chuckled.

"Yeah, exactly." She nodded, agreeing with his simple statement. "I don't really blame him though, you know? With everything we've already gone through, hell I kinda wish I could be drinking too."

"Like the whole thing with your ex, you mean?" Don turned to look at O'Carroll. He had been meaning to ask her more about the man since D-Day, but it never seemed to be an appropriate time. Of course, he had plenty of other things he wanted to talk about with her, but he still wasn't sure how to start _that_ discussion.

Bridget stared at her hands, avoiding Don's gaze for now. She knew that it was going to come up eventually, but she wasn't sure how to talk about it. She let out a heavy breath. "It's weird to think that he's gone now, but not... I'm not upset about it, even though we dated for a few years. I don't know what that says about me." Bridget frowned slightly at the thought.  

"Was he always that much of an asshole?" Don asked. "If so, I don't think many people would feel upset over him and you shouldn't feel bad about that."

"No he wasn't. I mean, he always had a way of getting under my skin, but he was never that bad until the end."

"Well, I don't doubt he had a hand in killing good American soldiers, I don't think he needs any tears wasted over him, past history or not." Bridget nodded along as Don spoke. He was right. Lukas had made his decision and she didn't need to waste any grief for him. Not when it could be saved for her fellow soldiers. Her thoughts drifted to the soldier shot by the sniper in Carentan, his blood on her hands... "Would you have married him?" Malarkey spoke again, thankfully pulling her from her thoughts. "If he didn't ask you to go back to Germany with him, that is. Do you think you would have said yes?"

Bridget brow knit and looked at Don, though she could just barely make his face out in the dark. "I don't know. I mean... my mother was pushing for it pretty hard before he revealed his true colors, so maybe. Why?"

"I just... I don't know it seems like if you had, he wouldn't have let you do this and I wouldn't have had a chance to meet you." Malarkey rubbed the back of his neck and glanced away from her. Why couldn't he just come out and say what he wanted to say? After all, according to Muck, there was a chance that she felt the same. Was that a chance he could afford to take however? "It would have been a shame is all."

"Don..." The softness in her voice made him turn to look at her again. "Everyone is so obsessed with what ifs. What if I married Lukas? What if I wasn't a soldier? What if I hadn't met you... None of it matters. I didn't marry Lukas. I didn't stay home. I'm here." He smiled at her words. "And about what he had said... about me having a way of wrapping men around my fingers... I just wanted to make sure that you-"

"Birdie," Don stopped her before she couldn't finish that train of thought. "I didn't actually take anything that man had to say about you seriously, if that's what you're worried about. The way I see it, if I am wrapped around your fingers," He took her hand in his and linked their fingers together in order to make his point. "It's by my own choice, not because you tricked me into it." He laughed and looked at their intertwined hands for a moment before back up at her. They were closer now than they had been, an unconscious movement by both of them. He breathed in sharply and quickly pulled away, letting go of her hand as well, before he could do something he might have regretted. It was a good thing to because a moment later, another figure came into view. "Flash?"

"Thunder." The shadow responded and soon they could make out Lieutenant Winters crouching by their foxhole.

"Evening, Lieutenant." O'Carroll greeted. Thankfully, the redness of her cheeks wasn't visible in the dark. She had been just as aware of their closeness as Don had been.

"How is everything, Sergeant?" Winters asked.

"We're fine. Saw Lieutenant Welsh not too long ago, but it has otherwise been quiet."

"Good." He chewed his lip, obviously pondering something. Winters opened his mouth, about to continue talking when they all heard a yell.

"Medic!" They turned to look, the two in the foxhole standing up, ready to move if needed.

"What's going on?" Bridget asked as she moved to climb out of the foxhole.

"Stay here, Sergeant, I'll check it out." Winters ordered and so O'Carroll had no choice but to nod and waited in an impatient silence. It was a few minutes before he returned. "There was an accident with Talbert, but everything is under control now. O'Carroll, be prepared they may attack before first light and if they don't we're going to attack at dawn. Got that?"

"Be careful and ready to attack at dawn, yes, sir." She watched as he left before sitting down again. "I think he knows that I'm a woman."

Malarkey frowned as he returned to his place next to her, though he made a conscious effort to put more distance between them this time. "How... how would he know that?" He hoped that it wasn't somehow his fault. That he hadn't given her away by being too obvious in his feelings for her. If Muck could tell, Winters might have been able to as well...

"I'm thinking Peterson might have told him, but I can't be sure." O'Carroll sighed and closed her eyes. "It's just the way he looks at me. Maybe I'm paranoid, I don't know, but it seems like he knows. They're not lining me up against a wall though, so I'm not going to ask." She took off her helmet and set it aside before running her fingers through what little hair she had.

"If he does know, than obviously he doesn't see the need to turn you in. Either way, I think it'll be fine." Don watched her for a moment longer before squinting at his watch. "You should get some sleep now, Birdie. I'll wake you up in a few hours and we can switch off."

She nodded, but then grimaced from a sharp pain in her chest. "Yeah, just... hold on. Can you keep an eye out for anyone approaching?"

"The binding?" Malarkey asked, though he knew the answer. She complained about it little in the past two years, but he had come to notice her slight grimaces and how she would rub her side from time to time as though that would ease the pain.

O'Carroll nodded and he turned his back, keeping his eyes open for any more soldiers who might stumble along. "Yeah, I've had it on all day and it's killing me." She chuckled softly and unbuttoned her uniform top quickly. She dropped it and pulled off her undershirt before unwrapping the bandage wrapped around her. "Oh Christ," She breathed out in relief as she set the bandage aside with the undershirt and pulled her uniform shirt back on.

"Better?"

"Yeah, we're good now." He settled back in the foxhole and she closed her eyes again. "Don't let me oversleep, alright?" But she never got to hear his answer because despite everything on her mind, she almost instantly she fell asleep, her exhaustion finally catching up with her.

At some point as she slept, Bridget had rest her head against Malarkey's shoulder. He made no attempt to push her off of him. Even in the darkness, he could see the frown on her face. Evidently, whatever she was dreaming about was nothing good. He wanted nothing more than to rush into that dream world and protect her from whatever it was, but he couldn't do that. And he couldn't wake her just yet, pull her out of the hell of her dreams into the hell of reality. Don didn't know which was worse for her, but she needed her rest either way. So, he was stuck watching her pain, being unable to do anything. He really hated that feeling, gnawing at his entire being. He swore at that moment if they made it through this war, he would work his hardest to protect her from any further pain. He wasn't naïve enough anymore to believe he could fully protect her during this war, he remembered clearly the time she told her that this is war "something is bound to happen." That felt like so long ago now, he thought as he studied her face. It was already etched with exhaustion and worn by the war, he could only imagine how heavily it would show by the time they made it home. If they made it home.

After a while, Malarkey knew it was time to wake up O'Carroll and to try to get some feeling back into his arm. Quietly, he shifted her away so that he could stand up, and stretch out his now aching muscles. He hadn't dared to move before, afraid he'd wake her up long before she had to. His fears were justified when he heard movement behind him.

"Hey, Don." She said groggily and he turned to see her rubbing her sleep filled eyes.

"Hello to you too."

Bridget stood up to stretch as well before sitting back down and gathering her undershirt and the bandage. "Keep an eye out." She muttered, her voice still heavy with grogginess. The moment his back was turned, she worked to put the binding back on, groaning softly as she did. She then quickly pulled the undershirt on over her head and then her uniform top.

"Sleep well?" Malarkey asked with a quiet yawn, looking forward to getting a little sleep himself.

"As well as one can." O'Carroll pat his shoulder and used it to climb out of the foxhole. "I'm gonna go take a piss and then you can get some sleep." She grumbled and he laughed as he sat back down. She had such a way with words.

 

* * *

 

D-Day plus 7

The Germans never attacked during the night so a little before dawn, Bridget woke up Donald. "Hey, get yourself ready. I'm sure we'll be attacking soon." He yawned but nodded, moving to get up. Guarnere came up to their foxhole and held out a hand toward Bridget.

"There you are, O'Carroll, let's go." Bill pulled O'Carroll out of the foxhole and they made their way to where everyone was meeting to plan the attack.

"Good morning, O'Carroll. I see Guarnere found you." Welsh greeted, he didn't seem even the least bit hung-over.

"Morning, sir." She squatted next to the map they were all looking at. "Do we know how many we're facing?"

"No, we don't know what they've got." Welsh shook his head. Bridget sighed softly and looked out toward the field. Wouldn't things be so much easier if they could know this information? Although, she never really expected war to be easy. "We may be attacking a weaker force, possibly more paratroopers."

"And you know how they can be." Hoobler said, earning a chuckle from the Lieutenant.

"Hmm, fire and maneuver. That's the name of the game, fire and maneuver. Dog and Fox Companies will be on our left, moving with us. Any questions?" Everyone shook their head. "Let's make 'em holler."

"It's 9:30 in the evening back home, must be." Perconte said as he looked at one of the many watches on his wrist.  An unmistakable noise filled the air and many of them instantly dropped to the ground.

"Mortar!" Guranere yelled for those who hadn't dropped down yet.

"Incoming!" Everyone took cover, waiting for the shelling to die down a little. As soon as it let up, Welsh ran over to began yelling into Luz's radio. He pointed at O'Carroll after throwing the speaker down. "Go check on your platoon's mortars make sure they're set up!" O'Carroll nodded and ran out of the hedgerow. She spotted the mortars already set up and ran up to Malarkey and the crew.

"How we doing, boys?"

"Fan-fucking-tastic." Malarkey didn't even spare her a glance as he began yelling out orders. "Right plus 15, charge three. Range, 600." They fired a round and then another. Don obviously had things under control here.

"Well, keep up the good work; I gotta go back to the line." She pat his leg before scurrying back down the hill, doing her best to keep low.

"Don't get killed!" He called after her.

"I'm not planning on it!" O'Carroll yelled back as she ran to the left of the hedgerow where her squad should be on the far left flank of Easy. "Alright, boys, let's make those Krauts regret ever picking this fight." She dropped down on the ridge and began firing into the fray.

"O'Carroll!" She could hear Winters yelling from behind them. "Nice work, keep it going! Keep your men firing!"

"You heard the Lieutenant! Keep up the good work, men. Make me proud. Aim your shots, men; hit those Germans." As the battle continued, O'Carroll continued to yell words of encouragement and orders to the men, all the while shooting at the Germans. At one point, when she heard the familiar clang and swiftly reloaded her weapon. She was about to start firing again when she saw some brush moving on the other side of the field. She quickly realized that it wasn't brush. Things were about to go from 'bad' to 'fucking horrendous.' She took in a deep breath to strengthen her resolve. They could do this. _She_ could do this. "Men, we've got tanks! Don't let Jerry scare you off." Bridget got up to begin moving among the squad as they kept firing. "That's right! We can take them down!" The tanks began firing in the direction of the paratroopers.

"Sir, uh, Dog and Fox are gone!" One of her men yelled and she looked to their left, seeing the men running out of the hedgerow and away from the tanks. The men began to get uneasy now. They had just become the left flank.

"Holy fuck." She muttered softly before nodding to herself. She just had to keep her men firing. "That's okay men! Someone has to be the left flank and it's better us than those yellow bastards!" She returned to firing and was relieved when they followed her example.

"Here they come!" Someone yelled as the tanks broke through the hedgerow on the other side. Yet they kept firing, something O'Carroll was immensely thankful for as she continued to move about the squad.

"We got this, men. Just stay low, aim your shots. Keep firing!" To the right of them, O'Carroll saw two men run out onto the field. " What the... is that Welsh?" She stared in stunned silence for a brief moment as they fumbled with an RPG. "Don't hit the Lieutenant, men!" They fired the RPG, but the first shot just bounced off the top of one of the tanks. She didn't get a chance to see if their second shot hit as the man next to her went down screaming. "Medic!" She yelled as she grabbed him to carry him out of the trees. Bridget had steady hands now as she opened a package of sulfa powder to pour onto the wound. Eventually, the medic came to take the man away from her and she rushed back to the ridge. What she saw made her heart soar. Heaven had arrived in the form of Shermans.  The 2nd armored rolled out onto the field and began doing their job. Laughs of relief filled the squad and the rest of the company. "Jesus Christ, I might have to run up there and give their commander a kiss." Bridget laughed as she aimed to avoid the Shermans.

After that, the fighting didn't last much longer. The Germans were either dead or on the run, being no match for just how many Shermans there were. Everyone loosened their grips on their guns and relaxed, cheers filling the air.

"Everyone ok?" O'Carroll asked as she sat down to take a breather. She looked at the squad, besides the man she had to drag to the medic, they all seemed to be in good condition.

"Yes, sir." There was a chorus of confirmation as they began to pull out cigarettes.

"Awesome." She breathed out as she offered her lighter to one of her men. "Great job, everyone. We live to fight another day."

* * *

 

It was D-Day plus 25 when Easy heard that they were finally being pulled off the front lines. 25 days. So, much for the 3 they had been promised. They were heading back to Normandy where they could eat some real food and then go back to England, it would be a good reprieve for the already weary soldiers. Malarkey and More had  managed to obtain a motorcycle, completely illegally, and were planning on a short joy ride back to the mess hall.

"Well?" More asked, watching O'Carroll intently. The two of them were trying to convince her to come along.

"You guys know this is really stupid, right?" She stared at the motorcycle with its attached sidecar. Nothing about this seemed to imply 'fun' to her.

"Please, Bridget." She made the mistake of looking at Don who was giving her a look she couldn't possibly say no to.

"Well, where am I supposed to sit then?"

More pat the seat of the motorcycle. "You can hold onto me."

"I'm terrified of motorcycles." She continued to try to talk her way out of it, but she knew it was never going to work.

"But you can jump out of an airplane?"

"I can't believe I am fucking doing this." She gave a resigned sigh and gestured at the bike. The two men grinned and climbed onto the vehicle.  As More started it, she climbed on behind him and held on tight. "If we die, I'm gonna kill you both." The men laughed. As the bike jolted forward, her first instinct was to close her eyes and hold on tighter, but as she began to feel the wind blow against her face, she cracked her eyes open. Soon, she was loosening her grip on More and she even let out a cheer.

"That's the spirit, Bridget!" Malarkey called and cheered in return before taking a sip of his beer. "This is great!" Don offered the bottle up to her. She slowly removed one arm from around More to grab it. She took a few sips before handing the bottle back. Bridget then decided to try something she never thought she would. She tightened her grip with her legs and took her other arm from around More. She raised both of her arms into the air and cheered again, feeling an odd sense of calm. She waved to a group of soldiers as they drove by before putting her arms down by her side. "See? What did I tell ya?" Malarkey grinned as he watched her, glad to see that she was having a good time. She gave him a slight nod and he turned his attention to More. "She fancied me, Alton." He was talking about the French girl who had helped them get the bike. O'Carroll looked away to hide the pink of her cheeks and the twinge of jealousy she felt. It wasn't as though she had said anything to him yet, she wasn't exactly allowed to be jealous if he chose to flirt with women.  

"In your dreams, buddy." More turned to tell him when they heard a horn. Bridget quickly grabbed onto More once again as they swerved around the truck they had been heading straight for.

"Jesus Christ!" The boys began to laugh, but O'Carroll had fallen back into her nervous state.

"It's good to be alive!" Malarkey yelled as they pulled to a stop. Bridget, wanting to get as far away from the bike as possible, was quick to jump off, stumbling a little as she tried to get the use of legs back. "Jesus Christ, that sure was close." Don pat the top of the sidecar.

"Close? Close?" There was a hint of hysteria in O'Carroll's voice as she started to follow them toward the building. "That was more than close. We almost died!"

"Nah, missed him by a mile." More chuckled.

"The Night of the Bayonet." The trio walked behind Smokey who was beginning to tell a story, luckily they hadn't missed any of it. "The night was filled with dark and cold, when Sergeant Talbert- the story's told, pulled on his poncho and headed out, to check the lines dressed as a Kraut."

"Why is everyone in such a hurry to get back, huh? Hospital food don't suit ya?" Malarkey hassled Talbert before making Liebgott scoot over so he could sit between the two of them. O'Carroll pat Tab's arm and then sat on the bench behind them between Muck and Luz. Malarkey stole a cigarette from Muck and gestured for Bridget's lighter. She tossed it to him before returning her attention to Smokey again.

"Upon a trooper our hero came, fast asleep, he called his name, 'Smith, oh Smith! Get up, it's time, to take your turn out on the line.'" She saw the kid turning to look at Tab, and Bridget took the opportunity to give him a thumbs up and a smirk.

"Great job, Smith. I'm glad someone finally got that son of a bitch." Smith flushed red and turned back around as O'Carroll got hit in the back of the head by Talbert.

"Don't be an ass, O'Carroll, otherwise I'll send him after you next." He laughed as Bridget attempted to hit him back. Luz shushed her and pointed toward Gordon.

"Do you mind? The man is trying to tell a story."

"... So very weary, cracked an eye, all red and bleary, grabbed his rifle, and did not tarry. Hearing Floyd, but seeing Jerry." Everyone laughed.

"Way to go, Smithy!"

"'It's me', cried Tab, 'Don't do it', and yet Smith charged, tout de suite, with bayonet he lunged, he thrust, both high and low, and skewered the boy from Kokomo." The Company applauded and cheered. At the table next to O'Carroll's, a replacement stood to leave, but Guarnere, who was across from Luz, stopped him.

"You Heffron?" He asked and Muck and O'Carroll watched with interest. What could the kid possibly have done that would make Guarnere pick a fight already.

"Yeah."

"Where you from?" Bill asked and Bridget, realizing what was going on, quickly lost her interest. She turned in her seat to jab Malarkey's back, making him turn as well. She held out her hand for the lighter she had let him use. As he slipped the lighter back into her hand, his stayed on hers. His fingers lightly brushed against her wrist and O'Carroll knew then that she didn't have to worry about French girl who may have been interested in Don. The moment was interrupted when Bill invited the young replacement to join them at the table. She groaned, breaking the contact with Malarkey as they shifted to try to make room for him.

"Since you weren't wounded by the enemy, and thus didn't qualify for a Purple Heart, we've taken matters into our own hand," Gordon took off one of his three Purple Hearts and held it up, "Tab, this is for you." More cheers filled the room.

"I could have shot the kid a dozen times." Tab claimed, but no one believed him.

"Yeah, right." Liebgott chuckled.

"Bullshit!" Bridget called as spared one final look for Don, before reaching over to squeeze Talbert's shoulder.

"I just didn't think we could spare a man." He continued.

Before the men had a chance to really fall into their own conversations, Lip started talking. "Couple of announcements, men. First, listen up," It took a few seconds, but they eventually all turned their attention to him. "First, the training exercise scheduled for 2200 has been canceled." Many of the men cheered, but Bridget had the feeling that it wasn't going to be a good thing. "Secondly, all passes are hereby revoked. We're heading back to France." She knew it. "So, pack up all your gear. We will not be returning to England, boys. Anyone who has not made out a will, go to the supply office. The trucks depart for Membury at 0700. As you were."

"Wow, what a downer." There were murmurs of agreement, the energy of the room had been sapped at the announcement. No one was laughing now.

After a short chance to get some shut eye, it didn't take them very long to gather their things. So, early in the morning, Malarkey and O'Carroll were making their way to pick up their laundry since it was their last chance to do so.

"Hello?" Malarkey called as the two of them stepped inside. They removed their covers from their heads as they stepped further into the building. "Hello?" He said again.

"Oh." The woman in charge stepped out from the back to greet them.

"Good morning, Miss Lamb. Um, sorry to bother you so early." Malarkey said politely with a smile. O'Carroll had to look away to stifle a chuckle. It was always fun to watch soldiers trying to soften up when interacting with civilians.

"That's alright Private..." She paused as he shook his hand.

"Malarkey."

"And Sergeant O'Carroll." Bridget raised an eyebrow, the woman hadn't even seemed to notice her at first, but she now reached out to shake her hand as well.

"Come in." The woman led them further into the shop.

"Actually, it's Sergeant Malarkey now, ma'am. I just got promoted." He gestured to the chevrons on his arm.

"Oh, lovely." She smiled at him and gestured to the shelf next to her. "I expect you'll both be wanting your laundry. I heard the trucks rumbling by all night. I guess the Yanks must be on their way off again."  

Malarkey nodded. "Yes, ma'am." O'Carroll masked another chuckle as a cough. _Ma'am_. "Looks like for good this time."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Miss Lamb picked out two packages from the shelf. "Er, two shirts, two pairs of trousers, each, light starch." She put them down on a table. "Two bob and tuppence each, please."

"I'll pay for his too." Malarkey said as he dug through his pockets for the change.

"That's not necess-" O'Carroll started to say, but Malarkey stopped her.

"Patrick, it's fine." This made Bridget frown briefly, as much as she had insisted on it, she actually hated hearing him call her Patrick. Malarkey held the money in his hand out and the lady took what she needed. "Thank you."

"Thank you." She handed them the packages of their clothes. As O'Carroll turned to leave, the woman spoke up again. "Would you, er, like a cup of tea? I've got the water boiling."

He glanced at Bridget, finally realizing that woman was apparently interested in him. Bridget could only smirk and shrug. "No, no, thank you. I'm in a hell of a... bit of a hurry but, er, thank you anyway." Malarkey said. The two turned to leave again, Bridget fully intending to tease him about it once they got outside.

"Oh, um, Private?"

The two turned back around, O'Carroll biting her lip to stop from laughing. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Lieutenant Meehan's one of yours, isn't he?" Any amusement that had been on their faces slipped away instantly. "I hope he hasn't forgotten his laundry."

"I'll take it." Don said, before Bridget had a chance to tell her the man was dead.

"Thank you." He held out the money again, staring silently at the package as she set it on top of his other one. Her smiles at him went completely unnoticed now. "You, um, couldn't be a dear and help me with a few others, could you?" Bridget knew she was just trying to keep his company a little longer, but this wasn't going to be fun. "Er, let's see. Sergeant Evans."

"Private Moya."

"Blowzer, Gray, Miller, Peterson, Owen, Collins, Elliot."

_All dead._

"Blithe."

_Severely wounded._  

Malarkey and O'Carroll simply stood there, a heavy weight settling on both of their chests. It was a little thing, they had known that these men were dead after all, but it was one thing to see the soldier fall during a battle, knowing that they would never pick up their laundry, never go back to England, never go home... that was something different.


	9. A Trip to Holland

Months had passed since D-Day and it was now mid-September. The jump they had been planning on making had been called off after Allied forces had gotten far enough to overrun the DZ. So, Easy Company was actually in England now, having had a chance to return to Aldbourne for a short break. For someone who had been so eager to fight before, O'Carroll wasn't too unhappy about this turn of events. They all needed a breather before jumping to the front lines again. With a large group of Easy Company gathered in the bar, there was conversation all around her, but O'Carroll had long since tuned out, her focus, and thankfully thoughts, on nothing in particular.

"O'Carroll," She was pulled back into reality by Malarkey returning to her side and setting a full beer on the bar in front of her. "Here you go.  You looked like you needed another one, so, I thought I would treat you."

"Oh, now that is a beautiful sight!" Bridget laughed and picked up the glass. She tapped it against his before taking a drink. "Thanks, you didn't have to."

"It's nothing." Don said after taking a sip. He cringed a little at the taste. No one particularly liked the warm beer, but they didn't have much choice. "Maybe _when_ we get back to the states you can pay me back with a beer that actually tastes good." The two of them chuckled as Don leaned against the bar.

"Yeah, definitely. Hell, maybe I'll just move to Astoria. It would be a lot easier than making an eight hour round trip every weekend just to see my friend." Bridget said.

"Hey now, don't say things like that unless you mean it. You'll get my hopes up." Don laughed, but there was a seriousness between the two of them that they both recognized. They both knew if they survived, things would change between them, for better or for worse. "Either way, I'm sure my family would love to meet you."

"Speaking of family," O'Carroll pulled an envelope out of her pocket and held it up for him to see. "I got a letter today from mine and I wanted to show you something." She took a photograph out of the envelope and handed it to him before putting the envelope away. The photograph was of a young woman, her hair falling to her shoulders in gentle curls. The face was a familiar one, but it was the smile that instantly told Malarkey who it was.

"This is you." He said, not even having to ask, as he looked up at his friend. She gave a slight nod in confirmation. Malarkey's eyes turned back down so that he could study the picture. Now he could see the other similarities. Her nose, the shape of her eyes, the curve of her face. It was definitely the woman standing in front of him. He offered the photo back to her, but she only waved it off.

"You can just throw it out." Bridget stared at her drink with a slight frown, her fingers playing along the edge of her glass. "My mother said in the letter that she provided a picture of 'my sister' to show to my friends or anyone I thought would be good for her." O'Carroll scoffed slightly before picking up the glass to take a long drink. "I mean, fuck, here  I am fighting a war and she is still trying to marry me off. I don't know why the hell I thought she would act any differently."

"Christ, she is determined, isn't she?" Don slid the picture into his pocket for now before returning to his own drink. "She doesn't know what a soldier is really like, does she? Otherwise, I don't think she'd be asking you to marry yourself off to one of us."

"Well," Bridget laughed, appreciating Don's obvious attempt to break the mood. "My dad was in the last war, but she didn't meet him until after. So, no. She doesn't know what soldiers are like at war. There is no way in hell she would even recognize me now. She would absolutely hate it if she saw me now."

"Well, that's her loss." Malarkey nodded to himself. "You're a damn fine soldier and are- you're a great friend just the way you are." Bridget looked up at him to say something, but  stopped at the sight of Muck and Penkala making their way toward them. Don hadn't noticed them yet and so Muck took the opportunity to point at Malarkey and mouth words at Bridget. 'Have you told him yet?' She shook her head quickly as Malarkey looked down. 'Tell him! Te-'

"Hey, Skip, Penkala." Bridget cut Muck off and drew Don's attention to the two.

"Hey, guys! How's it going?" Don greeted the two and gripped Muck's shoulder lightly.

"Just fine." Skip cut a glare at O'Carroll who simply ignored it and drank her beer. "Just wanted to come on over and see how you two were doing." He let out a soft sigh and drank from his glass. These two really were a lost cause it seemed like.

"Hey, y'all, listen up. I got us an announcement to make." Everyone in the bar turned to look at Smokey who was standing on a chair. He reached over and put his hands on Lipton's shoulders, bringing him forward. "This here is Carwood Lipton."

"He's already married Smokey." Malarkey called, causing the bar to fill with laughter. Bridget gave him a high five as she laughed before leaning back against the bar to look at Smokey.

"This here is Carwood Lipton." Smokey went on, ignoring Don. "The new Easy Company 1st Sergeant." Everyone in the bar applauded; if anyone deserved to be the 1st Sergeant, it was Lipton. "As befitting his position, he says he has to make an announcement."

Lip cleared his throat. "Well, I hate to break the mood here, boys, but we're moving out again." Everyone got dreadfully silent. It always seemed to be Lipton delivering the bad news. The four friends standing at the bar looked at each other for a moment, not sure what to say.

O'Carroll drained the rest of her drink and then set the glass down on the bar. It took her another moment, but she was finally able to speak up."Back into the fray we go, huh?" The other three nodded solemnly and finished their own glasses.

* * *

 

"As you can see, this is called Operation Market Garden." Winters began briefing the men about their next drop. "In terms of Airborne Divisions involved, this one's even bigger than Normandy. We're dropping deep into occupied Holland, the Allied objective is to take the road here, between Eindhoven and Arnhem, so, that the two British Armored Divisions can move up it toward Arnhem. Our job is going to be to liberate Eindhoven. Stay there, wait for the tanks." Winters stepped back and let Nixon take it from there.

"The entire European advance has been put on hold to allocate resources for this operation." O'Carroll let out a heavy breath. That meant this was a big deal. "It's Montgomery's personal plan and we'll be under British command."

"Yippee." Bridget said sarcastically as everyone else groaned. No one actually wanted to be under British command. They were all on the same side, but that didn't mean they wanted to take orders from the Brits.

"The good news is, if this works, these tanks will be over the Rhine and into Germany. It could end the war and get us home by Christmas." Nixon said, a hint of hope in his voice.

"See, what did I tell you?" More leaned forward to whisper in O'Carroll's ear. "Berlin by Christmas."

"Yeah, if it even works." She mumbled in return. She looked around to see the eager faces. Apparently she was one of the only ones who still held onto that doubt.

"It'll be a daytime jump." Nixon continued. "Intelligence doesn't expect much opposition. They think the Krauts in Holland are mostly kids and old men. And we should take 'em by surprise. In any case, say goodbye to England. I don't think they're gonna call this one off." They were dismissed and the men were silent as they began to file out of the room.

Soon, preparations for the jump were under way. It was similar to that of D-Day and so those who had jumped at Normandy weren't so nervous. They had done this before, they knew what to expect now. The replacements, on the other hand, were anxious and looked to the men from Toccoa to help with their preparations. As they continued to get ready, a jeep drove up with two familiar faces in it. Standing in the back of the jeep was Popeye, no doubt going AWOL from the hospital, and with him was none other than Captain Herbert Sobel. Bridget quickly turned away, not wanting the man to see her. She was the only one Toccoa soldier who wasn't staring because she just couldn't look at the face of the man who had made her life hell for two years.  The truck pulled to a stop behind them, of course. "Looks like he's a supply officer now." Skip said quietly with a laugh before he and Don both turned away as well. Malarkey pat Bridget's back before they began studying a map of the DZ that Muck was holding.

"Hey, Mal, Bridget." O'Carroll almost jumped as More came up from behind to whisper to them. "Over there."

"We saw him." Bridget grumbled, not moving at first.

"No, in the truck." More said before hurrying away. Her curiosity got the better of her and she turned to see what he meant. O'Carroll felt as though her heart came to a dead stop.

"Oh, shit." She muttered.

"Sonofabitch." Don said at the same time. In front of them sat the motorcycle that they had... commandeered those many months ago. Skip gave a half-smile before returning to the map but both O'Carroll and Malarkey let their gaze linger one second too long.

"Malarkey, O'Carroll." Sobel called and started toward them. Skip's smile dropped and he ducked his head to rush away as though he had important business to attend to elsewhere. The bastard was leaving them in the to endure the wrath of Sobel on their own and O'Carroll was going to give him hell for that later. The Sergeants both saluted and Bridget briefly thought about what George had said about how someday she could outrank that S.O.B. She only wished he was right. "Sergeant Malarkey and Staff Sergeant O'Carroll." Sobel said in surprise, probably horrified that O'Carroll had been promoted, at least so she thought. He returned the salute.

"Sir?" Don asked, both him and Bridget knowing it was best for her to just stay quiet. Sobel looked at the motorcycle before returning his gaze to the two of them.

"You thought you could get away with it?" Sobel asked.

O'Carroll and Malarkey tried to look as clueless as possible. "What do you mean, sir?"

"Sergeants, that motorcycle is United States Army property. That may not mean anything to you, but it means something to me. Where'd you find it?" The two friends glanced at each other. "I know you had it, just tell me where you got it from."

" _I_ got it in Normandy, sir." Bridget finally said before Don had a chance to. The memories of years of latrine duty were fresh on her mind, but she wasn't going to throw Don under the bus. She could feel Don shift next to her and she could easily imagine the irritated expression on his face.

"We both did. I talked him into it, sir." Of course Malarkey wasn't going to let her take the fall either. Sobel looked between the two of them. There was no hint of emotion on his face and that made her nervous. It would almost be better to see just how angry he was.

"I'm impressed." He finally said and Bridget's jaw just about dropped. "Well... now that it is back where it belongs, no further action needs to be taken." They saluted him once more and then he left to return to his duties.

"Is it just me, of was Sobel being kind of  _nice_?" Malarkey asked as he turned to look at O'Carroll.

"He didn't even take the chance to punish me for something I actually did do..." She stood there for a moment, watching Sobel as he worked. He glanced her way and she quickly turned. "Right, now let's get this over with so I can be home for Christmas."

"That's the spirit, Bridget!" Muck said as he rejoined them.

O'Carroll only scowled at his appearance. " _You_  left us to Sobel. Remind me not to help you if you ever need it, asshole."

* * *

 

The jump itself felt so much easier than D-Day. Limited anti-aircraft fire meant no torn parachute, which was a huge relief for O'Carroll. Everyone landed in the DZ and so once she landed, she moved fast to get off the field as soon as possible. It was best avoid getting hit by any of the falling equipment or men. As she ran across the field, she paused only for a moment to help one of the replacements in her squad with his equipment.

"Sir-"

"Not now, let's just get moving." The kid nodded and started running with her. The safety they found themselves in was a ditch on the side of the road, waiting for further orders. Bridget slung her rifle over her shoulder as they leaned back against the grass. Suddenly, a bottle was dropped into her empty hands. Beer. She looked up to see who had given it to her. "Why thank you, Hoobs."

"No problem, Sergeant." He continued on by to get to his squad. O'Carroll looked at the bottle before tossing it to the replacement she had helped. She was pretty sure his name was Private Clarke or something like that.

"There ya go, Private, enjoy. Don't drink it right now though." Planes flew by overheard, drawing everyone's attention. The nervous replacement ducked a little. "No worries, that was our air support." Bridget chuckled softly. "Let's hope they did their job."

"Hey, Sarge?"

"Yeah?" She looked at Clarke who was now jamming the bottle into his pack.

"Do you think we can be in Berlin by Christmas?"

"It's possible." She still didn't believe it, but it was her job to keep the men motivated. The platoon in front of them began moving and so they followed, moving through a field of tall grass to get to the town of Eindhoven on the other side, their current objective.

The town seemed empty at first, but as they drew nearer, an orange flag was lowered out of a window. The moment they stepped into to town, they were engulfed by a sea of people that began cheering and singing. A smile graced O'Carroll's face as they made their way through the crowd as best they could. She had to admit, their excitement was infectious enough that it put even her off her guard. These people were beyond ecstatic to see Americans and O'Carroll couldn't blame them after being under German control for as long as they have.

"This is insane!" Malarkey called to her, a similar smile on his face.

"It is! We've got to keep moving though!" She said over the singing with a laugh. They had only gone a few more steps when put of nowhere, a woman stopped Don and then kissed him on the cheek. Shock filled his face and the tips of his ears turned a bright red. Bridget began laughing, but was cut off when another woman came up to her and kissed her directly on the lips. It was O'Carroll's turn to turn bright red and Malarkey's to start laughing loudly. She mumbled out a thank you to the woman before turning to Malarkey. "Sergeant, stop laughing."

He had to take deep breaths to stop, but he managed. "I'm sorry, Birdie, that was just way too funny."

"I need to get out of this mess," she grumbled and wet her finger to try to wipe the lipstick from her lips. "I'm gonna try to find Captain Winters to see how much longer we'll be here."

"Okay, want me to come?" There was still a hint of amusement in his voice.

"No, don't worry about it, I'll find you later." Bridget started to walk away, but stopped and leaned back in so he could hear her. "But don't... don't do all of this, alright?" She gestured around them.

"What's 'this'?"

"The kissing and all of... Just keep sharp is all. There could be snipers." She left a slightly bewildered Malarkey to try and find the Captain. Her search was cut short by Guarnere stopping her.

"Hey, O'Carroll, come here." He said as he began to pull her along.

"Guarnere, do you know what we need to be doing?" O'Carroll dodged another kiss and ducked in closer to hear Bill better.

"Yeah, yeah. We're probably staying in town tonight. Move out tomorrow toward Arnhem. Now come on, relax a little. Let's take a picture."  He pointed to the group standing in front of a camera.

O'Carroll chuckled and nodded. "Alright, alright. Let's take the damn picture." Guarnere stood in the back as O'Carroll crouched down next to a little girl. She felt her helmet being pulled off, but before she could grab it, the little girl next to her had plopped it on her own head and made a face. O'Carroll laughed and looked forward just in time for the picture to be taken. Bridget then turned back to the girl who took off the helmet and offered it back to the Sergeant.

"You are very pretty." The girl spoke in halting English. O'Carroll's eyes widened and her mouth dropped slightly. "I won't tell." The girl put a finger to her lips. "Secret, yes?" She giggled and ran off. Bridget slowly stood up and put her helmet back on, unable to believe that a little girl could see through her disguise so easily.

"What's up?" Bill asked her, his brow furrowed as he looked at Bridget.

"That little girl," Bridget nodded her head in the direction she had gone. "She could tell I was a woman somehow."

"Kids are pretty smart."

"Maybe, I..." Bridget stopped as something caught her eye. She had seen the group standing nearby, but hadn't paid them any mind until they had shifted so that she could see what they were standing around. She took a step in that direction. "It's because she has already seen women with short hair." She walked a few more steps toward the group to get a better view of what was happening. There were women, all stripped down to their undergarments, crying as they were forced to the ground. The group was standing around them chanting as they were shearing the women's hair off. Each had a swastika drawn onto their foreheads. O'Carroll and Guarnere watched in silence, Bridget feeling a little sick.

"Jesus Christ," Bill muttered. "What the hell did they do to deserve that?"

"No idea." Bridget turned away, feeling ready to get out of Eindhoven. She found her squad and began herding them out of the celebration, the cheering no longer bringing a smile to her face.

* * *

 

The next day, they made their way to the town of Nuenen. Until then, they had encountered little resistance, but just outside of the town, a shot was fired and the Lieutenant was taken down by a sniper. Bull ran to his aid as the rest of the soldiers got off the road, taking a few shots as they moved. As soon as a medic got there, Bull moved to the ditch in an attempt to get everyone moving.  With another shot, the medic helping the Lieutenant got hit and fell to the ground as well.

This attack was already a disaster.

O'Carroll finally got her squad moving and running toward the buildings for cover. "Let's go. Everyone quiet now. Over this wall." Things were quiet, but they kept on high alert as they made their way into town, clearing the way for the English tanks. "You men, you go that way." Bridget gestured around a building. "Clear that side." They nodded and moved and she and the rest of the men went around the other way. They regrouped by a wall and she brought everyone to a halt.

They didn't even get a chance to get further into the town because the next thing O'Carroll knew, the English tanks were getting attacked and Germans were coming out of hiding. "Fall back men!" Bridget yelled and started to urge her squad back before providing them with covering fire. "Pull back, pull back!"

"O'Carroll, let's go!" She glanced at Malarkey who was now trying to get her moving. She continued firing at the Germans however.

It wasn't until Buck grabbed her arm and started to pull her did she start moving. "Get moving, Sergeant!" He yelled and started to push her and Malarkey along with the rest of 1st platoon. As he was doing this, a bullet tore straight through his ass. It was like a set of human dominoes when he went down. He knocked down Malarkey who then fell into O'Carroll causing her to fall as well.

"Medic! Go get a medic, keep moving!" Don yelled at Muck but Doc was already running their way. Muck and O'Carroll both raised their guns in case any Germans started their way. "Doc." Malarkey greeted Roe who went straight to work.

"Lieutenant." Doc studied the wound. "It's gone right through, Buck, side to side, both cheeks." That was a relief, it seemed. It was also pretty humorous, but O'Carroll knew the laughing would have to wait until later.

"Malarkey, get 'em out of here, go!" Buck said, causing the others to look at him.

"What!?" Don asked, not really believing his ears.

"Leave me here for the Germans."

"What? You nuts?" Malarkey asked again. Buck was crazy if he thought that they would actually do that. Buck was more than just their Lieutenant, he was their friend.

"Not happening, Buck." Bridget scoffed.

"We'll carry you." Doc offered, but that only earned him a derisive chuckle.

"Are you kiddin' me? I weigh more than all three of you guys combined. Maybe even two of you, O'Carroll." Buck groaned, but Malarkey's eyes lit up. He had an idea.

"O'Carroll, come on." He pat her shoulder and moved out of the ditch with O'Carroll close behind.

"Stay here, Muck. Keep them safe." She called back before racing behind Malarkey as he moved to the nearest door. She watched as he broke it down before it finally dawned on her what he was thinking.

"What the hell are you doing?" Guarnere shouted as he approached them.

"Help us!" Malarkey yelled and the three of them grabbed the door to carry it back to where Buck and Doc were. They slid Buck onto the door and they began to drag him along to get him back to the trucks. It took a while, but they managed to get him to safety. Once he was in a truck, O'Carroll climbed up to sit down, looking back at the town sadly. This would be their first time retreating and she decided she didn't like it. At all.

"By the way, the Bull is missing." Guarnere mumbled softly and Bridget turned to look at him.

"Bull? Are you serious?" Bill nodded solemnly in answer to her question before walking away. "We'll find him. We will come back and find him." She called to Guarnere's back and he raised his hand to show he had heard her. Bull was a great man and it would be a rough loss for the company if he was really gone. Bridget silently prayed that he would be alright.

That night, all of them had difficulty sleeping. Some had died, many were wounded, and Bull was gone. There had been such high hopes for this mission that now that it had gone so poorly, the morale was destroyed. Anyone who had thought they would be in Berlin by Christmas doubted it now. None of them knew what the next step would be and too much was uncertain. O'Carroll herself spent most of the night just sitting in the shallow foxhole she had dug, staring blankly at the ground in front of her. What sleep she did get was fitful and not enough. It didn't help that throughout the night, Eindhoven was being bombed. When they returned the next day, gone were the faces of joy replaced with sadness and a bitter disappointment. The only good thing brought by that day was the return of Bull who had somehow managed to survive through the night. As heartening as this was, it couldn't quite make up for the fact that Germany would have to wait for another day.


	10. From Holland to Bastogne

Holland was quickly beginning to wear thin on the men just after a month of being there. The entire Operation had been a series of hits and misses, more of the latter than they would have liked, and everyone was beginning to feel the crushing feeling of defeat. Easy Company knew if anyone could push the Germans back and make it into Germany, it would be them, yet even they hadn't been able to drive the Krauts back out of Holland.

On October 5th, some of Easy had made their temporary home in a barn. It wasn't exactly an ideal place to stay, but it was a little better than staying outside. O'Carroll's eyes were closed and she was laying on the ground, trying to imagine the hay under her was a large, comfortable bed. Needless to say, it wasn't working very well. With a loud groan, she gave up and pushed up from the ground. Luz glanced back at her before offering a cracker in her direction. She took it and popped it into her mouth. George turned back and placed the receiver of his radio back on his shoulder and pressed to his ear just as Talbert made his way over.

"New guys giving the replacements the what-for and why-is." Tab said to Winters with a soft scoff. Luz grabbed another cracker to lure Tab's new dog, a German Sheppard, to him. "I swear one of them has never shaved." Luz coughed a small chuckle and gave O'Carroll a pointed stare. The woman rolled her eyes in response.  

"Yeah." Winters said, not noticing the interaction between the other two soldiers. "Kids."

"This is a hell of a dog, Tab." George said as he pet the dog. O'Carroll moved in closer so she could scratch it behind the ears. The dog's tail wagged slightly, happy with the attention it was receiving. It would be a shame when the dog was inevitably left behind.

"Thank you." Talbert grabbed a stick and threw it across the barn for the dog to fetch. "There you go." As the dog trotted after it, O'Carroll sat back in disappointment.

"What'd you call it, Tab?" Winters asked, though his focus remained on his work.

"Trigger."

"That's good, I like that." Luz mused as he ate another cracker. "Trigger." O'Carroll nodded in agreement, it was a fitting name.

"Got anything on this?" Floyd gestured to Luz' radio and George shook his head, holding to the receiver so it wouldn't fall.

"No, it's all quiet." Luz said and as if in response, the door to the barn burst wide open.

"We got penetration." Someone yelled as a group of soldiers came in carrying in another. "Alley's hurt, we need the Doc."

Everyone was up and moving, Talbert making it over to the group in a heartbeat. "Alright, get him on the table."

It took O'Carroll a little longer to get off the ground, but she was soon heading toward the men  to help in any way she could."Did you say Alley?"

"Yeah, it's Alley." Talbert grumbled. "Alright, I got this." He grabbed someone's rifle from them so they could set Alley down.

"Easy." Liebgott said as they lowered Alley onto the table. When she finally saw the man clearly, she could see that he looked to be in really bad shape. His entire side was bloody from multiple wounds.

"Alley, you're gonna be okay." Talbert said as he stood by the man.

O'Carroll moved to his other side and grabbed Alley's hand that wasn't hurt. "It's okay, buddy."

"Boyle, go get Doc Roe." She heard Winters voice come from next to her.

"Where am I? Something happened, what happened?" Alley was mumbling and O'Carroll gave his hand a light squeeze.

"You're safe now, Alley. It's okay." She said in a soothing voice, though she wasn't sure he heard it.

"Where was it?" Winters asked.

"Crossroads, where the road crosses the dike." Liebgott answered. Bridget glanced up at him and noticed he was holding a bandage to his neck.

"If it wasn't for your loud mouth, they'd have never known we was there." Joe Lesniewski accused the other man.

"Hey, you know what, Joe, back off." Liebgott snapped in return.

"Lesniewski," Winters interrupted. "Send a runner for Lieutenant Welsh." He ordered, knowing it was best to separate the men with tensions running so high. "Lipton, assemble me a squad."

"Yes, sir. First squad, on your feet." Lipton yelled out and people began moving away from the table to gather their things. This made room for Doc who had finally arrived. "Weapons and ammo only!"

With Roe now bust helping Alley, O'Carroll moved to Liebgott; someone needed make sure he was alright. She gently nudged his hand that was near his neck. "Let me see."

"O'Car-"

"Move it." Bridget ordered and he moved his hand and the bandage to reveal the blood on his neck. She leaned in close, examining it as best she could. Blood wasn't spurting out of it in an alarming way and she didn't see any chunks of shrapnel so that seemed to be a good sign. She placed the bandage back over his wound and tied it on.

"Thanks." Liebgott muttered softly before returning his attention on helping Roe with Alley.

"No problem, Joe." O'Carroll pat his back and moved away to pick up her carbine and ammo.

"Let's get moving everyone!" The order was given and so men started out of the barn and toward the crossroads. Avoiding the road in order to avoid being seen, they treaded softly in the dark through the fields beside it. They didn't have to go far to hear the machine gun firing. At the sound, everyone went prone, dropping even further out of sight in case the guns were aimed at them. The lack of bullets whizzing overhead told them that it wasn't an issue. They looked up to see that the MG was shooting down the road perpendicular to the road they were walking by. When O'Carroll looked down it, all she could see was emptiness. The Germans were shooting at nothing.

"What the hell?" Bridget breathed out.

"There's nothing there." Malarkey murmured as he moved to her side.

"No shit." Bridget said, lightly nudging his arm as she did. "Maybe they're seeing things." Donald snorted in response. They watched as one lone figure, undoubtedly Winters, ran up the hill to get to the road on the other side in order to get a better view of the situation. The men shifted uncomfortably as he signaled for them to wait until he returned. The seconds passed as slowly as hours as they waited for Winters to come back into view. Their concern was proved unnecessary when Winters came into view once more and signaled for them to follow him back across the road. The soldiers moved silently over the hill to cross the road and down the hill on the other side, sans the two on the machine gun who were setting up by the road.

"This is our fallback position, here." Winters said once they had stopped at the base of the hill. "Mortars, deploy here. First squad, on me. Go." Before following behind Winters, O'Carroll looked at Malarkey and touched a finger to her brow before pointing at him. Malarkey mimicked the motion before moving with Skip and Penekala to set up the mortars. This was something O'Carroll and Malarkey had started doing shortly after the failed attack of Arnhem. They knew they couldn't always keep an eye on each other so it was their way of saying the other needed to stay alert and not get killed, a reminder of the promise both of them had made. O'Carroll then quietly ran up the field with Winters and the rest of the squad.

 As they got closer, they could hear the Germans shouting orders. The men stopped when Winters ordered them to and watched as crawled on ahead again. He signaled for them to come forward  quietly and take positions along the road. O'Carroll moved to rest on her stomach and pointed her gun toward the Germans. She watched them as they roamed around, entirely unaware of the American soldiers with their guns now trained on them. Winters leaned down and whispered into her ear. "Second on the right."  Her aim shifted so that it was focused on her target, following him as he wandered aimlessly. The German stopped moving and idly scratched his neck. It was strange to see the man so oblivious to the fact that he was going to be dead soon. "Wait for my signal." Winters ordered and O'Carroll's grip on her M-1 tightened. Her German target sighed and stared up at the night sky, he was bored. While everyone else was having orders yelled at them, he had nothing to do.

Her observations were cut short when the sound of a rifle shot filled the air. That was a hell of a signal. O'Carroll wasted no time and took her shot, the man was down in one hit. Quickly, others began to fall around him. The Germans started rushing around in an attempt to retaliate, but several of them were already dead. "Fall back!" Winters yelled and the men started back to the predetermined area. O'Carroll heard the mortar squad fire off a shot and their machine gun began firing down the road. The soldiers started running, the Germans had their guns on them now. Once back at the ditch, everyone dropped down and began shooting back across the field. Moments later, O'Carroll felt something hit her feet, but she didn't look back. She couldn't looking back.

"Fuck! Dukeman's down." Someone yelled and that explained what had landed on her. Bridget managed to keep her attention forward, however and it wasn't until both sides had stopped firing did she turn around, pulling her legs out from under the body. She swallowed hard as she moved forward to gently set his body back against the ditch, getting him out of the path, but leaving his lifeless eyes to stare at her.

"Hey..." Malarkey mumbled as he settled in next to O'Carroll.He glanced at Dukeman before quickly looking away. She hadn't been able to take her eyes off him yet. "Birdie." He spoke again, touching her arm until she finally looked at him.

"Do you think this ever gets easier?" She asked, her eyes moving back to the man in front of her. "Seeing... seeing all this death." Bridget clarified, before he could ask. He considered her for a moment, but her face simply showed a somberness, nothing suggesting she was about to have a break down.

"I don't... I don't know. Maybe." He chewed on his lip as looked at Dukeman. "I hope not. I mean... I just don't want to become someone who becomes indifferent to death."

"Things would be easier that way." She mumbled as she pulled her rosary out of her pocket, fiddling with it for a moment.

"Yeah, it would." Malarkey agreed. "But who the fuck said this was going to be easy?" O'Carroll smiled slightly and gave a nod. He had a point. Her thumb and finger moved to the first bead and she softly began praying the Rosary to herself, keeping Dukeman in her thoughts. It was the least she could do for him.

As the sun began to rise, O'Carroll used the light to reach forward to take what she needed off the body in front of her, including a packet of Lucky Strikes. She shoved the cigarettes into her pocket and made sure the ammo was in reach for when she needed it. Winters formed a plan, knowing that the men had to attack otherwise the Germans would get them first and they did not have the best defensive position. Eleven men would go up the left flank. Eleven men up the right. Ten men and a woman up the middle, a minor detail Winters didn't need to know.

"Fix bayonets." The order was hissed and O'Carroll sat up a little more, it was almost time. She snapped the knife onto the end of her weapon. "Go on the red smoke." She took a deep, steadying breath. This shouldn't be too bad, they were only running across a long, open field towards an unknown number of hostiles who were situated on the higher ground. Winters threw the signal grenade and began running before it even went off. Everyone moved, ready to go, but there was no red smoke yet. It was taking too long and Winters was already halfway across the field.

Finally, the signal went off and the rest of the men started running. O'Carroll sprinted as fast as she could with all of the gear she was carrying and  was one of the first people to join Winters on the hill where he was firing down at the German soldiers. She took a shot before dropping to her knee to continue firing. When she had to reload, she dropped to her stomach, reloaded, and quickly resumed firing. It was like shooting fish in a barrel, O'Carroll thought as she watched the Krauts fall to the ground.

But soon the barrel was overflowing with fish as another company of Germans came over from the hill on the other side. The men continued firing, however, not willing to give up their advantage just because there were more Germans than anticipated. At the sound of their own artillery, the American soldiers slid down from the road into the ditch before continuing to fire. It was just in time too, at least for most of them. The German artillery soon retaliated and was firing down the crossroads.

"Oh, shit!" O'Carroll yelled and ducked further down.

"They've got the road zeroed in! Take cover!" Yet a few men got hit, including Webster.

"They got me!" He yelled and O'Carroll made her way over to him. "Patrick, they got me." Her brow knit for a brief moment as she moved to look at his leg. She had forgotten that he was one of the few who had never known the truth. She wasn't close to him and none of her friends were either so they hadn't let it slip yet.

"It's alright, Web. It doesn't look too bad." She said as she carefully pulled a piece of shrapnel out of his leg. "I think you'll make it." O'Carroll said with a smile and a slight laugh. Web only shook his head. Her face turned serious again when she realized she had left her aid kit back at the barn. "Shit." She muttered softly . "Hey, Skinny!" She called as soon as she saw Sisk. He trotted over. "You got a bandage Webster here could use?" He nodded and grabbed his kit and she let him get to work. O'Carroll then turned her attention back to her squad and back to the fight, but with the help from the artillery, there wasn't much of a fight left. In the end, it turned out that it had been two entire companies of SS that Easy was up against. It was amazing considering that they had only lost one man. Only one... It could be said that that was a good price, but that didn't seem fair to Dukeman.

* * *

 

After the crossroads incident, Winters was promoted and took over the whole Battalion. It was a great loss for everyone in Easy. Luckily, "Moose" Heyliger who took over for him seemed to be a good man and a good leader from what the men knew. Unluckily, their first mission under him, rescuing a bunch of lost Brits, was also their last under him. While on a patrol with Winters, he was shot several times by a replacement. He survived, but he was shipped out and Easy had to get yet another new C.O. This time it was one Lieutenant Norman Dike. It didn't take long in Holland for the men to recognize that Dike was not a good leader and they all began calling him Foxhole Norman.

Not too long after that, Bill Guarnere also had gotten shot. He had stolen a motorcycle and had been driving around to encourage the platoon when he got shot in the leg and was knocked off the bike, managing to get some metal in his ass in order to keep up the Easy Company tradition. Bill, of course, went AWOL in order to rejoin Easy. He was caught at first but he let them know he would only go AWOL again and so within a week, they sent him back to Easy.

Even with how bad things had been going in Holland, Easy was now getting a chance to relax. With Christmas drawing near, there were plans for a football game against soldiers from the 502. Apparently someone thought that O'Carroll was a good choice to be one of the coaches and so she had spent the entire afternoon with Malarkey learning the details of the game. Afterwards, he invited her to a game of craps, but she declined, having already agreed to go see a movie with Luz that evening. She could sense his disappointment and that only reinforced her decision. Some free time apart might do them both some good.

While waiting for it to be time to see the movie, O'Carroll was outside, despite the sting of the chilly air, leaning against one of the barracks. She was enjoying what little sun there was along with a cigarette. As she took a drag, she coughed roughly. Bridget was still new to it all, but she already understood the appeal and almost regretted not starting sooner. It was a form of escape for the men and now for Bridget as well. For now, however, she was going to keep it to herself. After two years of swearing she'd never have one, something told her the boys would be a little surprised to see her smoking a cigarette now. She didn't want to deal with whatever they'd have to say just yet.

By the time she had finished the cigarette, the sun had slipped down below a building and the chill hit her harder. She dropped the butt to the ground and stomped it out. She didn't move from her place by the building yet, however, and pulled her dog tags out to look at them. As her fingers traced over her fake name, a soldier who had been walking by stopped and backed up to her. It was George Luz.

"Hey, Princess, there you are. I was just coming to find you. The movie is going to start soon." An odd expression filled his face as he looked at her, noticing her seriousness. He leaned against the wall near her. "Everything alright there, Bridget?"

"I'm just tired of pretending." She examined the name etched into the metal. "I mean, I knew what I was getting into, at least I thought I did... Now that we're out here though... Someone is bound to realize soon that I don't grow facial hair."

He chuckled softly and gripped her shoulder. "Don't worry about it, no one has noticed it yet. No matter, the Duke should cheer you up tonight."

"Yeah, of course. The Duke has the power to make everything better, even when it's my life on the line." Bridget said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes.

"Now, look here, girl," George began his John Wayne impression and it quickly had O'Carroll smiling. "You're gonna be happy, and you're gonna like it." Her laugh was enough to appease him and he gave her shoulder a soft pat. "There you go." His voice returned to his own. "But really, Bridget, you know if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here, yeah? You don't have to tell everything to just that red-headed dolt you call a best friend."

"Hey, hey, hey, careful what you have to say about that dolt. He's still my best friend." Bridget continued laughing. "If I have to, I'll fight you to protect his honor." The two of them snorted.

"I'd kind of like to see that." Luz chuckled. "And I know he is, but my point is he's not the only one that cares about you, yeah? You're my friend and I worry. And before you say I don't need to worry about you, too bad, it's what friends do. And if you pretending ever gets to be an issue, I've got your back."

"Alright, alright. I'll keep that in mind if I ever need someone to whine to." She pushed away from the wall and turned to point at him. "Also, I'm taking this as if I ever get caught, I can throw you under the fucking bus now."

"Great friend you are." Luz laughed and pushed away from the wall as well. "Now let's go, the movie's starting soon." The two friends made their way to the hall that the movie would be showing in. They took seats in the middle and chatted as they waited for the movie to begin. As the film began rolling, it turned out to be one that O'Carroll had seen before, so she quickly lost interest.

Luz must have noticed she was bored because soon, he started doing his John Wayne impersonation again. "Look at me, I'm John Wayne. The costume department set me up with these great navy whites."

"Luz, shut up." Joe Toye grumbled from the row in front of them.

"What do you think?" Luz continued, ignoring the protests. Bridget snickered though it was clear that Toye and Lipton didn't think it was funny.

"I'm trying to watch this." Lipton turned as well to scold the two of them.

"I've seen this movie 13 times, okay?" Luz said.

"Well, I haven't so shut up." Joe grumpily said and turned back around.

"Watch the movie, it's fine." Luz said as he gestured at the screen and O'Carroll had to cover her mouth to stop from laughing too loud again.

"Hey, Skip!" O'Carroll  quickly turned to see Malarkey run into the hall. He caught her eyes for only a second and paused to smile at her.

"Shh, c'mon." Luz scolded the man as though he hadn't just been talking loudly himself.

"Where've you been? I've been looking all over for you." Mal whispered to Muck as he sat right behind Bridget.

"Well, Don, I was at home in Tonawanda. But then Hitler started this whole thing, so, now I'm here." Bridget snorted as she listened in. "How'd you make out in craps?"

"Not so bad. Here's the 60 bucks I borrowed." Malarkey said.

"You're paying me back?" Skip asked in disbelief.

"And to say thank you..." Malarkey continued as he counted out more money.

"Surprising." Skip muttered.

"A tip." Don finished.

"Jesus!" Perko almost shouted when he saw the money.

Lipton and Toye turned again. "Shut up!" They both said in loud whispers.

"I was up six grand, but I only have 3,600 left." Don said proudly as he put the money back into his pocket.

 Bridget turned now to really join in on the conversation." _Only_  3,600? Seriously?" He nodded.

"What are you gonna do with all that dough?" Perconte looked like at Malarkey expectantly, unsurprisingly wanting in on some of the cash. Skip, still in shock, was counting his.

"Blow most of it in Paris as soon as possible." Malarkey said with a grin.

"Gimme a tip." Perko held out his hand, but Don only ignored him and grabbed a cigarette from behind Skip's ear.

Out of instinct, Bridget pulled out her lighter and lit his cigarette for him. "What the hell are you going to spend all of that on in Paris?"

"Lots and lots of alcohol." Don chuckled around the cigarette before moving it from his mouth. "Maybe I'll pick up a souvenir or two."

"So you don't forget your wonderful European vacation?" O'Carroll laughed, earning a shush from the front row. "You better save some of that for when we get back to Oregon. I'm expecting a few drinks."

"You're the one that owes me, O'Carroll." He chuckled.

O'Carroll shook her head and pointed at his pocket."You're the one with the money, you buy the drinks. Just how it is, sorry. I don't make the rules."

George elbowed Bridget to turn her attention back to him and then he tapped Lipton's shoulder. "Bridge, Lip, favorite part."  Luz said. "Got a penny?" He said in an odd voice causing O'Carroll looked at him strangely. "Got a penny?" He said a bit louder and then took a drag of his cigarette. "Got a penny?" He said even louder, right before Marlene Dietrich said the same thing on the screen. Bridget couldn't help but burst into a fit of laughter, he was just too ridiculous.

Her laughter was quickly cut off. "Lights!" Someone shouted. The lights came on as a few men stormed into the hall.

"C'mon!" Everyone started to complain, even O'Carroll who hadn't even been that invested in the movie.

"You can't do that to the Duke!" Luz groaned.

"Quiet." The man shouted, but no one listened. "I said, quiet!" The screen turned off and finally everyone shut up. "Elements of the 1st and the 6th SS Panzer Division have broken through in the Ardennes Forest." Luz rolled his eyes and O'Carroll let out a loud groan. "Now, they've overrun the 28th Infantry and elements of the 4th. All officers report to respective HQs. All passes are cancelled." Shouts of 'No' filled the room. Just when everyone was getting to relax a little, they were being sent out again. That's how it always was. "Enlisted men report to barracks and your platoon leaders." The men then left and slowly the Easy Company soldiers got up.

Malarkey light tapped O'Carroll's shoulder as he stood up, causing her to look back. He gestured for her to walk with him and O'Carroll stood, patting Luz's back as she did. She made her way out of the row and then walked with Malarkey from the hall. When they stepped outside, it was no longer cold, it was freezing. "Jesus Christ!" She hissed and hugged her chest in an attempt to block the cold.

Don looked up at the snow that was falling now and frowned. "Hey, Birdie, do you have winter clothes?"

"No, why?"

"Cause I don't either, but something tells me we're going to need them." Don said and as Bridget looked to the sky as well, she knew he was right. Suddenly, leaving Holland seemed like an awful idea.

* * *

 

Bridget  was huddled on the floor of the truck, stuck between Skip and Malarkey.  She had hoped that since they were all pressed in close together, it would be at least a little warmer, but it wasn't in the slightest. "I guess the blackout's not in effect." Buck said as he stared back at the headlights shining into their truck. No shit was all O'Carroll could think. It was great to have Buck back though. "Luftwaffe must be asleep."

"What a difference a day makes, huh, Lieutenant?" Ramirez said as he stared at his cigarette.

"Christ, I miss those C-47's." Bill complained.

"We've got a tailgate jump here." Said a shivering Talbert, but no one could manage a chuckle.

"I just wanna know where they're sending us, what the hell we're supposed to do with no ammo?" Babe grumbled.

"We'll just have you talk the Germans to death." Bridget said and Babe only flipped her off.

"Hey, kid, what's your name again?" Guarnere asked the poor replacement for what seemed like the millionth time.

"Suerth, Suerth Junior." Jr. answered as he finished lighting Popeye's cigarette

"You got an ammo, Junior?" Babe asked.

"Just what I'm carrying."

"Just like everyone else." O'Carroll said, the sound muffled as she tried to warm her hand by breathing on them.

"What about socks, Junior, you got extra socks?" It was Toye's turn to harass the kid.

"A pair."

"You need four, minimum Muck began and O'Carroll was already rolling her eyes. "Feet, hands neck, balls." All of the older men, O'Carroll included, joined in. "Extra socks warms them all."

"Okay, we all remember that one." Muck said. "But did we remember the socks?"

"Of course not." Bridget responded as she pressed a little closer to Don for warmth.

"At least you only need three pairs, O'Carroll." Skip whispered into her ear. She lightly elbowed him in the gut.

"Yeah, I'd give my boots for a cigarette." Guarnere piped in.

"That doesn't sound like a fair deal for you, Bill." O'Carroll said, not mentioning that she actually had a cigarette. She knew that was a sure fire way to lose them.

"We're all out of ammo and socks." Don gestured between the two of them, hoping someone would have something for them.

Bill pointed at Suerth. "I bet Junior's got plenty of both."

"I don't."

"How about a hat, you got a hat?" Liebgott asked the replacement and the kid shook his head. "What about a coat, you got a coat?"

"I wish I did." Bridget groaned, remembering once again just how cold it was.

"Shut up with the coat, Liebgott, no one's got one." Muck grumbled at him, bringing his knees closer to his chest in hopes of warming up.

"How about some smokes then?" Ramirez asked.

"Yeah, I got some smokes." Jr responded. Ramirez had hit the jackpot and everyone reached out their hand. This was exactly why O'Carroll hadn't said anything.

"Oh, now you're talking." Muck exclaimed as he grabbed a cigarette. In no time, all of Jr.'s smokes were gone. Not too long later, the trucks pulled to a stop and everyone was able to jump out.

"Alright, guys, 15 minutes. Smoke 'em if you got 'em. Keep warm, guys." Buck told them as they piled out.

"Where the hell are we?" Don asked.

"Sure we ain't in hell, it's too damn cold." Muck responded and O'Carroll nodded in agreement.

"You can say that again." She rubbed her hands together, but it did nothing to make them warmer.

"Sure we ain't in hell, it's too-"

"Shut up, Skip." O'Carroll cut him off. She noticed nearby a fire being lit and she went to stand by it. As the flames shot up, she held her hands toward them. "Oh my God, that feels good." She could only enjoy the flames for a few moments before someone was calling for her

"Hey, O'Carroll," One of the men yanked away from her warm fire and pulled her to the road.

"What the..." The sight before her was incredibly disheartening. The road was filled with silent men walking away from the forest. None of them seemed to be in good shape physically or mentally.

"What the hell is going on?" Don exclaimed as Bridget moved to stand near him.

"We have to go back that way?" She said as she stared down the road at the woods.

"Hey, you're going the wrong way." Guarnere tried to stop one of the retreating soldiers. "Hey, pal." He grabbed another one. "Hey, pal, what happened? Where the hell are you going?"

"They came out of nowhere, they slaughtered us. You gotta get outta here." The soldier said.

"We just got here." Babe said, staring at the man.

"Gimme your ammo." Bill ordered, it was a smart move. "C'mon."

"Take it, you'll need it."

"Go on, get out of here." Babe pat the soldier's back, sending him on his way.

"Holy Christ." Bill muttered as he stared at the soldiers. Soon, everyone began taking what they needed from the other soldiers. As they were doing that, a truck came up with more ammo. Soldiers began grabbing as much as they could from it.

"A Panzer Division's about to cut the road south. Looks like you guys are gonna be surrounded." The man in the truck informed Winters. O'Carroll stopped grabbing a box for a moment to listen.

"We're paratroopers, Lieutenant. We're supposed to be surrounded." Winters said, but O'Carroll's morale plummeted. Nobody wanted to be surrounded when they were this short on supplies. She made her way back to Malarkey and together they followed the others towards the woods.

As they passed under a sign, she pointed up at the one that said Paris, which was in the opposite direction of where they were headed."Too bad we couldn't go there."

Malarkey looked up to read the sign and then scoffed softly. "Yeah, too bad."

"So, what did you do with that 3,600?"

He looked glum. "I had to put most of it up, I didn't want to lose it while we were out here. But now that means I can't get it until after the war. So much for blowing it in Paris."

"Sorry to hear that." O'Carroll pulled out her packet of cigarettes and handed him one before taking one for herself. She lit them both and he watched her as she inhaled, thankfully not coughing this time. It was obvious he wanted to ask, but he refrained from doing so. "Ammo shortage, no winter clothes, being surrounded by Krauts, this should be fun."

"Of course. Least we got each other, right?"

"Don't start with the corny bullshit now, Mal. Save it for when Jerry's got us by the balls, alright?" Bridget laughed. Malarkey opened his mouth ready to say something, but she quickly cut him off. "I mean figuratively so don't even say what you're about to say."

"I was just going to say let's hope it doesn't get to that point. I promise." Don snickered and O'Carroll shook her head, a smile still on her face.

"You're right though. I'm glad you're here." She said, looking down at the ground in front of her. Bridget took another drag from the cigarette before continuing. "Although I think I'd be happier if I had a winter coat here."

"Ain't that the truth." And with that, they stepped into the shadow of the trees, the darkness surrounding them like one of the heavy coats they sorely needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the school semester is starting soon, it may be a little difficult for me to get up chapters regularly, but I'll try to keep it up. Thank you for reading and any comments would be appreciated!


	11. There is Neither Heaven nor Earth, Only Snow, Falling Incessantly

"It's so fucking cold." Muck moaned in complaint as he shifted in the foxhole he was currently sharing with Malarkey and O'Carroll.

"The next person who says that will get shot." Bridget grumbled in response, breathing on her hands in an attempt to make them warmer.

"Woah, woah, woah, Bridget, that's a little excessive." Muck didn't laugh, but instead eyed her warily. At this point, he wasn't so sure that she was joking.

"Well, we know it's cold. I don't need to hear it fifty times a day." O'Carroll shook her head causing the snow to fall off her helmet and into her lap. She brushed it off quickly. "I can't try to focus on other things instead of the cold when people keep bringing it up." She felt bad for snapping at him like she did, but after over a week of snow, shelling, and shivering, she was just ready to be done with it all.

"Anybody know if anything new has happened?" Malarkey said to interrupt the two of them before they actually started bickering.

"Nope. Everything is still absolutely wonderful. Still surrounded, still freezing our asses off," Muck looked pointedly at O'Carroll who responded with a rude hand gesture. "Still under fire, still low on ammo. Oh, and we've still got Foxhole Norman."

"Fu-" Once again, the shelling began and so Bridget instantly scrambled to get down in the foxhole.

"Muck, you alright?" Don asked as he slid back into the foxhole grabbing his helmet to put it back on. The shell had hit the tree that was right behind Skip.

"I'm good." Muck said as he picked up his own helmet from where it was laying on the ground.

"Muck, Malarkey, take cover!" Roe yelled at them as he ran to their foxhole. If anyone needed to take cover, it was him, but then again if he did, he wouldn't be doing his job. Bridget highly respected the man for it.

"We're okay." Malarkey yelled at Doc as he reached them.

"Take a look at this shit, they've peppered my helmet." Muck was still holding his helmet in front of him.

"You might want to put that back on before the pepper your head." O'Carroll recommended and he did so quickly.

"Hey, Doc, Doc. Morphine" Skip called, stopping the man from continuing on. "Here take it!" He pulled the syrette out of his aid kit and tossed it to Roe.

"Where's Penkala?" Doc asked and O'Carroll only shrugged and returned her attention to the line, just in case the Germans were planning anything.

"Christ knows." Malarkey responded. Penkala had wandered off earlier when O'Carroll had stopped by the foxhole. Three was a company, four was a crowd type thing. There was a cry for a medic and Doc ran off. The other three stayed huddled together in the foxhole until the shelling died down a little.

"How about you? You alright, Bridget?" Malarkey asked once the firing stopped.

"Besides how fast my heart's beating? Just peachy." She returned to her attempt to warm her fingers up by moving them around.

"Here, let me see your hands, Bridget." Malarkey held out his hands. O'Carroll raised her brow, but did as he asked, her hands moving forward to rest between his. He captured her hands between his and started to rub them. "Friction should help a little."

Muck watched them for a bit before gesturing out of the foxhole. "I'm gonna see if I can go find, Penk. I'll talk to you both later." He grabbed his rifle and started away. "You better be the hell out of our foxhole by the time we get back." Skip pointed at O'Carroll with a laugh.

"Nah, I think I'm just going to stay here. It's pretty cozy." She laughed.

"I'm sure it is." He stared at their hands, not at all trying to be subtle. Malarkey instantly let go as Skip began walking away. Bridget coughed quietly, glad her face was already red from the cold.

"Feeling any better?" Malarkey asked as his hands returned to his pockets.

"Maybe, I don't know. They're a bit numb so it's hard to tell." She chuckled and stuck her hands under her arms again. "God, this makes me miss those Oregon winters, I never thought I'd say that." The two of them chuckled.

"Oh yeah, I could definitely go for some rain, rain, oh and more rain." He scoffed slightly.

"But hey, at least we wouldn't be covered in snow and getting fucking trench foot." Bridget cursed as she moved to loosen her boots a little, but left them on. Hers, at least, was a fairly mild case and she had already gotten advise from Doc on how to take care of it.

"True... and we'd be home." Malarkey said as he stared out down the line. "Speaking of... did you ever spend any time at the university?" He turned his head to look at her again. "Maybe we saw each other at some point."

"Well, I mean... I lived in a town a little ways out from Eugene, but yeah, I came into the city every once in a while. Mostly for... for Lukas." Her brow furrowed as she tried to recall those seemingly distant memories. "I think... I was on the campus once when you would have been there. Lukas was getting ready to move to Portland for work so he was kind of dragging me around for our last night together."

"To think, we could have run into each other and met sooner.. It's a small world, isn't it?" Don asked and Bridget nodded. It was a pretty small world. "I think you would have hated me if you had met me then."

"Me hate you? Never." She chuckled. "Now, Lukas on the other hand... he would have hated you."

"Oh yeah?" He chuckled, not too bothered by the idea. From what little he had seen of the man, he was an asshole that Donald wouldn't have wanted to be friends with anyway. "What would he have been threatened by my devilish good looks and undeniable charm?" He said as a joke, but Bridget was nodding.

"Actually yeah. He would have hated it if we became best friends because he would think that I was cheating on him with you. He was a paranoid bastard." Bridget thinned her lips. If she was honest with herself, any fears Lukas would have had probably would have been justified.

* * *

 

Later that night, some of the men were crowded together getting ready to eat "dinner", if it could really be called that. As they waited for the food, Babe was finishing the story of how when he was looking for 3rd Battalion with the other medic, Spina, he had managed to step in and fall into a German foxhole.

"And I'm standing there trying to figure out what to do and suddenly I hear talking from inside the foxhole." Babe put on his best German accent, but his heavy Philly accent still slipped through. "Hinkle? Hinkle?!" Babe started laughing and switched back to his normal voice. "And so Spina helped me out of there and we started running as fast as we could before he figured out what was going on." Everyone began laughing loudly. It was good to have a reason to really laugh again.

"Should have shot Hinkle in the ass." Don said and Skip shook his head.

"And he would have shot him in the ass!"

"Then we'd have two wounded men sitting with us today." O'Carroll kicked Penkala's foot with her own. Penkala had been hit that morning apparently, but wasn't anything major. Which was good considering there wasn't even an aid station he could have gone to. "How's that artery treating you, Penk? Are you sure you're going to make it?" She ribbed.

"Hey, I thought it was my artery, alright?" Penkala kicked her back.

Joe Domingus dumped some of whatever food he had made into her tin cup and Bridget stared at it for a moment."Thank you?"

"Yo, these smell like my armpit." Malarkey said as he stared at his food as well.

"At least your armpit's warm." Muck said before moving his cigarette so he could take a bite of whatever the hell it was.

"Do you want syrup with that?" Joe asked.

"Wait, this is supposed to be French toast?" Bridget stared incredulously at the lump she was holding.

"Hey, Joe, be honest, what's in these things anyway, huh?" Malarkey asked, looking back at Joe.

"Nothing you won't eat, Malarkey." Joe said as he began walking away for go feed other groups.

"I won't eat Malarkey." Muck said.

"I don't know, if we run out of food..." O'Carroll trailed off before laughing with the rest of them. Malarkey hit her arm but he was laughing just as much.

"Hey, hey, maybe Hinkle would like your share, huh?" Julian, Babe's new foxhole buddy, said.

"I should have shot him when I had the chance." Babe said.

"What, running backwards, Babe?" O'Carroll chuckled and Babe glared at her.

"Shut up, O'Carroll."

"Anybody see Lieutenant Dike?" They group looked up to see Lieutenant Peacock talking to them.

"Try Battalion C.P. sir." Don suggested.

"Try Paris." Skip said softly as the Lieutenant walked away. Everyone began snickering once more.

"Or America." O'Carroll added.

"Try Hinkle." Don snorted out a laugh.

"Hinkle, sweetie, I'm home." Penkala made like he was going to hug Babe.

Babe shook his head, ignoring him, and turned to look at Doc who was sitting a little away from the group. "Hey, Eugene, Lieutenant Dike's got a full aid kit, try him."

"Yeah, I'm sure he's not using his." Malarkey chuckled.

"Maybe Hinkle's got a syrette for you." Julian added.

"Eat your strudel." Penkala nudged him with a slight shake of his head.

"Is that what this is?" O'Carroll held up the strudel to look at it better before taking another bite.

"Hey, Hinkle Vinkle, eat the armpit, huh?" Don said.

"Shut up with the Hinkle stuff, alright?" Babe's ears were red, of course, all of their ears were because of the cold, but his darkened just a little more.

"Aw, embarrassed, Babe?" O'Carroll teased. He didn't respond and so the group fell into a lull of silence as they all ate their food. With no other conversation to occupy them, Bridget and Don's attention kept turning to each other. They kept nudging the other back and forth and glancing at each other. Everyone noticed, even the new kid. Not that he knew about O'Carroll's... situation. There was no doubt that Babe would have to give him the same talk Guarnere had given him when Babe had first joined Easy Company if Malarkey and O'Carroll didn't get better at acting as just friends. Skip cleared his throat and Babe stood up hitting Julian with the back of his hand.

"Hey, let's get back to our foxhole, kid." The kid looked at Babe, slightly confused, and then stood up. The two of them walked away leaving just the old friends huddled together. O'Carroll could feel blood rushing to her cheeks as both Muck and Alex kept looking between her and Don as though they were expecting something to happen. Despite his suggestions back in Normandy, Muck knew that neither of them had said anything to each other yet and now that it was six months down the road, he was thinking maybe it was time for him to intervene.

O'Carroll could tell he was on the verge of saying something, it was Muck, that's what he did, so she quickly spoke up. "Well, I'm going to try and get some sleep." She moved to stand up. "Have a good night, boys."

"I'll go with you." Malarkey got up too. "I don't know where our foxhole is." He added lamely when Muck coughed again.

"Goodnight." Penkala said. O'Carroll and Malarkey began walking back in the direction of their foxhole. As soon as they were far enough away, Penkala and Skip ducked their heads together and began to whisper about their two friends.

"I used to like snow." Bridget muttered as they walked through the snow. And she had. Those rare times that the Oregon winter brought a hefty amount of snow, she had been ecstatic. Something told her that if they made it out of this, she'd never want to see snow again.  

"Same here." Don said as they slowly strolled through the woods. As the sky got darker, a flare went up and a few shots were fired. The two stopped, but when the firing did not continue, they kept moving.

"Here we are." He lifted the cover they had put over their foxhole and the two of them crawled under it. It wasn't much warmer, but at least they could get out of the snow. "Do you think that we'll get out of here soon?"

"Not soon enough." Bridget shivered a little and pulled over the blanket to cover them both.

"Thanks."

"I have selfish reasons. The warmer you are, the warmer I am; body heat." She said with a slight chuckle.

"Of course. If it helps, you can get closer." Donald suggested. She hesitated for a moment, but the cold was bad enough that she knew it was a good idea despite everything. She scooted so that she was pressed up against him, feeling a slight chill run through her that wasn't from the cold. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she rest her head on his. "Better?"

"Much. Thanks Don." She mumbled, now entirely aware of her fluttering heart. God damn it, why did she have to feel this way about him? Malarkey's actions had proved time and time again that he cared for her, but did he have it this bad?

"Anytime." His voice was soft as well as he looked down at her. "Bridget..."

"Mmm?" She said, burying her face slightly against his shoulder to try to block it from the chill.

"Why don't you get some sleep? You look like hell." He laughed and she only grumbled in return. At least she looked exactly how she felt.

* * *

 

"That's it, guys, nothing more to worry about." Bridget was snapped back to reality by Skip talking. She had not heard a word the priest had said. "We're gonna die now, we're gonna die in a state of grace." O'Carroll scoffed and lit her very last cigarette.

"The world really is upside down now, O'Carroll is smoking."  Luz said, but she simply ignored him. She had done a good job of keeping her smoking from everyone but Malarkey, but she didn't really care anymore.

"Okay men, let's get this patrol over with." She grumbled as they started to walk to where they were meeting the Lieutenant.

"Peacock's leading, right?" Luz asked O'Carroll as she helped him get his radio onto his back.

"Right."

"Asshole couldn't find a snowball in a blizzard." Luz said. O'Carroll chuckled around the cigarette. She almost felt sorry for the man. He tried his hardest, but he just wasn't a good leader. At least he wasn't her platoon leader.

"Alright, that's it, let's move out." Peacock called out. O'Carroll dropped her cigarette to the ground to put it out. Hopefully they'd be able to get more sooner rather than later.

"Tactical columns, gentlemen." Martin ordered and they began moving, staying silent as to not give away their position. As they approached what they thought would be the German outpost, they duck down. Martin and Julian moved forward as scouts, looking to see if they could find anything.

And find something they did.

As soon as the rest of them heard the sounds of shooting, they ran to help. Julian had been hit. He was laying in the snow, blood pouring out of the hole in his throat as the Germans continued firing around him. The men provided covering fire as Babe tried to reach Julian in order to pull him back to safety, but it wasn't enough. The firing only got worse and so Martin had to make the tough decision; it was time to pull back. As they were retreating, the gunfire followed them. Another man went down, but Doc was there now and could help him. They almost went back to try to get the kid, but Nixon told them to keep falling back, so they did, leaving Julian to the mercy of the Krauts.

* * *

 

A few days later, it was Christmas Eve. An attack that morning made it so that Smokey got hit in such a way that he was paralyzed from the neck down. _Hell of a Christmas gift_.Bridget couldn't help but think; at least he would be going home now. Later, she felt awful for the thought, but it didn't make it any less true.

That night, Christmas Eve dinner consisted of beans. Not her mother's ham. There was no sitting around a table, warm and happy and properly stuffed. Just beans by the one and only Joe Domingus. General McAuliffe  sent a 'Merry Christmas' to the men via Colonel Sink. In the letter, he also told the story of how the Germans had actually asked for the Americans to surrender, something that every single one of them found offensive. Apparently so did the General because his response to the German Commander was one word. 'Nuts!'. That was enough to raise everyone's mood even just the slightest. Even though every single one of them wanted to go home, they were tough sons of bitches and nobody wanted to surrender.

Once the sun had sunk below the horizon and the men had settled into foxholes, the Germans across the line could be heard singing "Silent Night". O'Carroll sang along softly in English. So much for Berlin by Christmas, was all she could think. Sometimes she hated being right.

"Oh shit." She jumped a little as Malarkey suddenly spoke from where he was wedged between her and Skip. "I almost forgot. Oh, oh." She looked over to see him pull out some smokes. "Lucky Strikes means fine tobacco."

"Where the hell did you get those?" Muck asked eagerly, already reaching out for one.

"Merry Christmas, fellas. Gotta thank Jolly Old Saint Luz." O'Carroll let out a short laugh as he handed Muck two cigarettes.

"Oh, beautiful." Skip held them in his mouth as Malarkey lit them. Don then lit two more and handed one to O'Carroll as Muck passed one down to Penkala.

"There you go, Penk."

"I am shaking so Goddamn much I feel like I'm dancin'" O'Carroll normally might have laughed, but she was distracted by what Malarkey had taken out along with the smokes by mistake. It was a photograph.

"Y- you still have that?" Bridget asked quietly, shivering. He went to put it away, but Skip had already grabbed it and let out a low whistle.

"Wow, now there's a looker, Mal." Skip moved to show the picture to Alex who seemed a little too cold to care. "Who is she? A girl from back home?"

Malarkey didn't respond right away, his eyes still on O'Carroll. She didn't look all too happy with him even though she was doing her best to hide it. "You could say that."

Skip studied the picture a moment longer, suddenly noticing something. "Wait a second, I know that face." He looked over at Bridget. "Bridge, is this you?"

"Yeah." She mumbled. Even Alex made a sound of surprise, finally moving to grab the picture and really look at it.

"What's Malark doing with it?" Skip asked, taking it back from Penkala.

"He wanted to know what I looked like with long hair, but never got around to returning it." She lied, which Don seemed grateful for, even if it was obvious that Skip didn't believe it.

Muck handed the photograph back to O'Carroll. "Well, there you go. Now it is returned."

"Yeah." She crumpled the photo slightly in her hand. "You boys have a Merry Christmas. I'm going to go check on my squad." She said through slightly gritted teeth. Bridget was angry, though she wasn't exactly sure why. He hadn't thrown the picture out like she had asked, but it was no reason to storm off. She climbed out of the foxhole, not bothering to put out her cigarette although there was a constant light discipline at night.

Bridget hadn't gotten far when a rustling behind her let her know that Don was following her. "Bridget, wait." He hissed out, not wanting to be too loud. She hurried up and so did he. "Bridget, come on." When he caught up with her, he pulled her to a stop and looked around, making sure no one was in earshot. "Bridget, I'm sorry. I know you wanted me to throw it out, but-"

"But what, Don?" Her voice was a little louder than she had intended. "Why the hell did you feel the need to keep this damn picture of me?" Bridget held up the crumpled photo before throwing it to the ground.

"Bridget you know exactly why." His voice raised now as well. "You keep acting like you don't know and it's bullshit."

"Don't know what? What the fuck are you talking about, Mal?"

"God damn it, I love you, Bridget!" Malarkey snapped and Bridget stood there in stunned silence. He pressed on. "I am insanely in love with you and I have been for a very long time and you know it. I tried to ignore it because I thought that if accepted it, then it would make losing you even harder than it would already be, but that's just bullshit. Losing you would kill me whether I let myself believe it or not."

"Don..."

"I know you feel the same way, Birdie. I just..." His voice softened a little and he moved toward her. "I know you do. Why can't you just tell me?"

"I need... I need to go." O'Carroll pushed by him. In any other place, in any other time, she would have been elated to hear this. She would have told him how she felt. Told him that he was right because damn it all if she didn't love him back. If they had met that one night she was at the University... But they hadn't. They met at basic training and they were soldiers now in the middle of a damn war. They couldn't do this.

"Bridget-"

"God damn it, Don, would you shut up?" She growled and turned to him, the hurt look on his face weakening her resolve quite a bit. She somehow managed to not crumble, however. "Why'd you have to say anything? Here we are entirely surrounded by fucking Krauts and you think now is the time to be telling me this?"

"Because not saying it doesn't make it any less true! I can't deny it anymore. I can't pretend that I don't love you more and more with every damn breath I take. Maybe you can, but I won't." His voice was cracking and it tore at Bridget's heart leaving her with a dull ache in her chest.

"I'm not pretending." She managed though her voice wavered. Bridget turned again, knowing that looking at him any longer would be enough to fully break her determination. She needed to be somewhere away from here, so she started walking towards 1st platoon. Even if she didn't tell him anything, she knew Luz would do whatever he could to make her feel better. Bridget hadn't gotten far when the shelling started again. "Shit," she cursed and moved back to where Don was still standing. "Get the hell back in your foxhole, I'm going to check on my squad."

"Bridget!"  

"Go, God dammit." She shouted as she pushed him back toward the foxhole. "I'll be fine." Bridget dropped her cigarette and touched a finger to her brow and pointed at him before running off in a crouch. Argument or not, she needed to know he was safe and she needed him to know that she did care, even if she wouldn't admit just how much. Malarkey repeated the gesture toward her back before clambering back into his foxhole.

Bridget was moving from foxhole to foxhole, making sure all of her men were safe and accounted for. As she ran towards a foxhole to slide into, she suddenly felt herself get blown sideways. She gasped as she hit the ground; the pain was instant this time.

 _Hell of a Christmas gift_.


	12. To Fight Another Day

"H-help." Bridget let out softly, still reeling with shock. "Anyone?" She managed a little louder, but it wasn't enough to be heard over the shelling. She tried to make her way toward the sound of yelling, but she couldn't move very far, not with the pain in her side. So, instead she curled up trying to stay as protected as best as she could, this made more pain course through her body, but it would hopefully stop her from getting hit again.

 When the shelling came to an end, she uncurled and finally looked at her side, afraid to see how bad it might be. The entire side of her uniform was torn up with a mixture of tree and shell shards. Double whammy. Even in the dark, she could see the white snow beginning to turn a sickening red color and the blood felt hot against her freezing skin. This was more than the small scrape she had on D-Day.

"Medic!" O'Carroll was finally able to yell, now that the explosions had stopped. "Medic!" She called again, but she couldn't manage anymore after that. Panic gripping her now and making it impossible to react as she should. Those two cries had been enough, however, and a figure appeared. While she couldn't make out much, tears blurring her vision, she could just make out the armband with the red cross.  Thank God.

"It's alright, Sergeant, I'm here now." The medic said and she instantly realized it wasn't Doc Roe. In fact, it wasn't any voice she recognized.

"N-no..." She moaned and tried to push his hands away. Bridget hadn't come this far to let her secret be found out. "Roe... I need..."

"Roe is a little busy right now." He grumbled and she felt her hands be pushed aside as the medic worked to rip open her shirt to get to the wound. "What the fuck?" The medic had seen the bandages wrapped around her chest.

The moment the shelling had stopped, Malarkey ran out to search for O'Carroll. Something was wrong, he could just feel it. "O'Carroll?!" He yelled, running from foxhole to foxhole to ask if anyone had seen her. He finally found someone who had and ran in the direction they had seen her go. He didn't get far when he spotted one figure hunched over another one. There was a crushing sensation in his chest and he began to have trouble breathing. No, no, this couldn't be happening. He took a step forward and the crunching of the snow was enough to get the medic's attention.

"This soldier is a woman!" The medic exclaimed as he turned to look at the soldier. Don rushed to drop by Bridget's side, taking her hand in his. She squeezed it instantly. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her like this, but at the same time, having him there was a great comfort. "What the fuck is going on here?"

"Help her." He looked to the medic who only stared at him in disbelief.

"But-"

"Do whatever the fuck you want to about it later, but right now you are going to save her goddamned life or so help me..." Don didn't have to finish the threat as the medic instantly went back to work. Now that the medic was doing his damn job, Don returned his attention to Bridget. The sight of her side instantly made him feel nauseous. Blood was gushing out onto the snow from where splinters of metal and wood had punctured her side. It looked bad, but he was no expert and so he hoped he was wrong. "I'm here, Birdie, I'm here."

"Don..." Bridget choked out from a mixture of pain and emotion. She held his hand tighter. "Don, I'm so sorry..."

"Shh... It's fine. It's fine. It's not that bad." His other hand moved to brush through her short hair.

"N-no. About... about what I said." She grimaced, but otherwise worked to regain her control. It hurt like hell, but she had seen people with worse. "You were right. What you said..."

"Give her a syrette, right now." The medic ordered, tossing it to Don. "Right shoulder." Malarkey instantly obeyed, anything to dull her pain. The Doc then used some of her blood in order to write an M on her head.

"I'm sorry I kept pushing you away...." She closed her eyes and took a steadying breath, the morphine quickly beginning to work its magic.

"I know." Malarkey forced a chuckle. "I know you, Bridget. I know you're a hardheaded son of a bitch at times. It's okay." He watched the medic pull out the last of the shards before then using several bandages to wrap her side. "Is she gonna be okay?"

"This won't kill her, if that's what you're asking." The medic grunted. "Who's to say what's going to happen when word of this reaches higher up the ladder." He looked up at Malarkey "Are you going to call for a jeep or am I going to have to do it myself?"

Don didn't want to leave her, but he knew she needed to be taken back to at least Bastogne even though they couldn't go further than that. He gave her hand one more squeeze before getting up to find the nearest radio. Luckily. he only had to go to a few foxholes to find one. Malarkey pointed at the kid. "You. Call for a jeep and follow me." The kid stared at him for a moment. "Now!" That was enough to get him moving and he held the radio to his ear as he followed Don, calling for a jeep to come to their location.

When the truck pulled up, there was a familiar face in the passenger seat. Finally there was Doc Roe. "C'mon, hurry up. We got another one who needs to get taken back." Malarkey saw the man on the stretcher and recognized it was Lieutenant Welsh. "Is that O'Carroll?" Roe asked as he jumped out of the jeep and Don nodded. "Shit." Roe muttered under his breath before moving to help the other medic get Bridget onto the truck. As soon as she was on, Don took her hand in his again and continued his whispered words of comfort.

The other medic pointed at the kid with the radio."Radio ahead and tell them there's a special case they need to look at. Get brass on it to."

"No, wait-" Donald started to protest, but the medic ignored him and moved to Bridget to look at her dog tags.

"Tell them that Sergeant O'Carroll of Easy Company is a woman." The medic said and the boy's mouth dropped open. "Do it." The kid didn't need to be told again. "Now get the hell out of here." He hit the side of the truck and the driver turned the key in the ignition.

"I'll see you soon, Mal." She mumbled and looked at him one last time before the truck began pulling away.

Malarkey watched as the truck drove away, his eyes staying on Bridget for as long as he could see her. Even once she had been driven out of sight, he continued staring through the dark trees. He couldn't help but wonder if that was the last time he would see her face.

 One possibility, she was going to die from her wound. Whether infection set in or it was worse than the medic thought it was, it was always likely, especially since they were surrounded. Worst case scenario, she lived only to be killed for being a woman lying her way into the army. Forget the fact she had already shown herself to be a good and selfless leader, the pride of some high level men could be her fall.

The best case scenario? They just sent her home either for the injury or for being a woman. Either way, Malarkey really liked this idea, but he knew Bridget would hate it with a passion. And he had to admit... it wouldn't be the same fighting without her. He didn't know how long he was standing there before his legs finally started pushing him back toward the foxhole where Skip and Penkala were. He hadn't gotten far when he was stopped.

"Hey, Malark, what the hell happened?" It took Don a minute to realize who was talking to him. "I heard someone got hit." Bill Guarnere said, trying to prod an answer out of the man. The last thing Malarkey wanted to do was to be the one to tell her other friends what had happened.

"It... It was, um, it was Bridget." Her name caught in his throat. Saying it made it even more real. His eyes turned back to where he could still see the blood on the ground. "She um, the medic said she should be fine, but it wasn't Roe and headquarters knows now. They know she's a woman."

Guarnere was silent for a moment, processing what the man had told him. And then suddenly, he snapped at the other man. "What the hell did you do this time, you stupid fucking mick? She have to save your ass again and now she's gonna die for it?"

"It wasn't me, Bill! She went out to check her damn squad." Don snapped back but he felt like his chest was being squeezed tightly. What if it was his fault? What if she hadn't seen that damn photo and hadn't left the foxhole in the first place? Would she have stayed then? Suddenly, he felt light headed and had to rest his hand on a nearby tree to stay standing. "I can't breathe." He felt sick to his stomach, the sight of her bloody on the ground fresh in his mind once again. Guarnere's anger quickly faded. Anger was simply how he coped with things, but looking at Malarkey now, he new Bridget would never forgive him for being an ass. He moved to set a hand on Malarkey's back as a form of unspoken apology.

"Hey, it ain't your fault then. That's just what Bridget does."

"Yeah..." He wasn't sure he believed it, but Don tried to breathe slowly, tried to regain his composure. He couldn't break down. He _wouldn't_ break down. "Shit, someone needs to tell Luz too he'd want to know." He took a few steps in that direction, but Bill stopped him once again.

"I'll do it, Mal. You just get yourself some rest. We'll figure it out, don't worry. " Guarnere pat his back and started toward 1st Platoon, already trying to form a plan in his mind on how they could get Bridget safely out of the shit storm that was coming. 

Bastogne was hell. While they had been shelled on the lines, the Germans had been bombing the city. The church where they had been keeping the wounded had been bombed and so Bastogne wasn't an option. O'Carroll and Welsh were taken just outside the city where they had been evacuating the other wounded to. As the truck pulled to a stop, there were people there to get the wounded into the makeshift tent that was now up. They got Welsh off of the truck first, it was obvious he was in worse shape than she was. She may have had more wounds, but his was deeper.

Once Welsh was in the hands of other medics, Roe helped them bring O'Carroll into the tent. "Dammit, Bridget. I told you to be careful." He muttered as he crouched down beside her. She only grumbled. Roe inspected what he could of the injury. "You're gonna heal just in time for them to kill you."

"Your bedside manner is shit." She forced out, as always falling back on humor, but Roe didn't laugh. Bridget didn't blame him for that, there was absolutely nothing funny about what was happening.

"Where?" There was a barking yell and Roe looked up quickly. Colonel Sink was already here. Roe stood quickly. Bridget couldn't sit up, but she raised the arm of her uninjured arm weakly to try to salute to him."What is her name, Doc?"

"Bridget O'Carroll, sir." Roe said quietly. "She's just been wounded, she ne-"

"How many knew?"

"I can't say for certain, sir. I believe most of us in the Company."

"Well, I can't punish all of y'all, out of my sight and back to the line." He ordered and Roe spared one last look at O'Carroll before leaving the tent. O'Carroll watched as Sink spoke to the doctor. "You tell me the moment she's recovered enough to move, you hear?"

"Yes, sir."

 

* * *

 

That moment didn't come until the day after Christmas. She was finally feeling more like herself and the pain wasn't as bad, but everything still ached. That afternoon when she woke, she moved the blanket that was covering her so that she could see the bandages on her side. "Jesus Christ." She muttered, her voice hoarse from not being used.

"It's not so bad." She looked quickly at the medic standing near her bed. "It was just a lot. We were able to get all of the splinters out though and so you won't have to worry about infection." O'Carroll thought of Mo Alley. He had been injured much the same way back in Holland and was back soon enough to join them in Bastogne. That gave her hope. The medic turned to a soldier who seemed to be standing guard. "Go tell Colonel Sink that she's awake and moving."  Oh right. She still had to deal with that whole situation.

It felt like hours before none other than Captain Winters was standing over her. She managed a real salute this time and he returned it. "How is your side feeling, O'Carroll?" He asked.

"Just fine," She lied. "It's the trench foot that's killing me." Her small laugh was enough to send another ripple of pain through her, letting him see right through her lie.

"Can you stand, O'Carroll?" Winters asked. She tried to read his expression, but he was doing a good job at hiding any thoughts or feelings from showing. No hint about what her fate was going to be.

"I don't thin-" The medic started, but O'Carroll interrupted him. She'd be damned they thought she was going to spend another minute lying in that bed.

"Yes, sir. I can try, sir." She slowly sat up and got to her feet. It hurt like a bitch, but she managed to keep her reaction as nothing more than a wince.

"Come with me." He started to leave the tent, thankfully keeping a slow pace so that O'Carroll could follow close behind. As they walked, she noticed the flurry of activity around them.

"What's going on, sir?"

"The Army broke through, reestablishing our connection to the outside world. They're getting the severely wounded out of here as soon as possible."

"And where are we going, sir?"

 "We're going to HQ to see the General." Her heart rammed into her throat at his words and she stumbled behind him silently. This was going to be bad. This was going to be so bad. Winters directed her into a tent and she took in a steadying breath before stepping inside. She recognized Colonel Sink and Captain Nixon immediately. There with them was man she didn't recognize and who she could only assume was the General. The only one missing was Dike; O'Carroll assumed this was above his pay grade. She saluted when she entered, but only Nixon moved to return it. As soon as he saw no one else was, however, he stopped mid motion and dropped his hand. "General, sir, here she is, Bridget O'Carroll." Winters said as he entered the tent behind her. All eyes were on her and they remained deathly silent for a moment.

"Miss O'Carroll," When the General spoke, his voice didn't sound as harsh as she expected it would. "What led you to parade around as a man in the United States paratroopers?"

"It's Sergeant, sir. Not miss." She said, knowing it was pushing the limits. Only Nixon's expression changed, his eyebrows raising and the slightest smirk appearing on his face. "I went through basic training and I earned my jumpwings and my stripes just like anyone else did. Until I get discharged, I am still a Sergeant." Bridget straightened to further her point, despite the pain in her side. "And I'm here because fighting is where I thought I would be the most help, sir."

"So it would seem." The General, hell Bridget didn't even know which one it was, responded.

"Sir?"

"A silver star in Normandy. Holding the line outside of Carentan even after your left flank ran, and your squad had minimal casualties in Holland. Apparently, you're a damn fine leader." Her brow furrowed, but she remained silent, not sure how to respond. "Normally, you would be executed for doing what you did, but as this is an unusual case. I made a call to the President."

"The... President, sir?"

"Yes, needless to say, he took a lot of interest in your situation and we decided, after the hell the men have been through, their morale couldn't handle having a good leader they respect being executed. That much is certain. Tell me, Sergeant, do you _want_ to keep fighting?" The General asked and Bridget's mouth almost dropped. She hadn't been expecting this.

"Of course, sir."

"Yes, Captain Winters assured me you would say that." She glanced back at Winters, his face as passive as ever. "Well, since that is the case, we find it fit to give you a battlefield commission."

"Sir?" It made no sense. She had been lying to the army. They should be discharging her from the army or at least busting her down a rank. Not giving her a promotion. Something else had to be going on. Who was she to question it though?

"We're making you a Lieutenant, O'Carroll. Now, usually a battlefield commission takes some time and we would move you to a different company, but the President suggested doing it quickly and keeping you in 'Easy Company' since they already highly respect you, even as a woman. You'll be issued new dog tags with your real name on them."

"Thank you, sir."

"Now get back to the aid station and rest up. Easy Company will need their new Lieutenant as soon as possible." Bridget nodded and saluted once more, this time it was returned by everyone, and then she left. When she got back to the aid station, she sat down on her cot and went over what had just happened in her head. She had to be dreaming, this couldn't possibly be actually happening. And yet it was. That evening, O'Carroll was sent to an army hospital in just over the border in France with the rest of the wounded. She hated it with a passion, but she knew that she couldn't jump right back into the fray as she had before, not this time. Besides, it was better than being sent home or to stand in front of some wall to be shot at. Once she healed, she'd be back right where she belonged.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say sorry this chapter feels a bit rushed! Any reviews are appreciated.


	13. Back With the Men

A little over a week later, Bridget thought that she was up and moving just fine. There was a burst of pain every now and then, but she would never admit it to the doctors there. They probably knew anyway. When O'Carroll heard through the grapevine just after New Years that Easy was heading back to the Bois Jacques after a short reprieve, she knew she had to get back. She had her new bar now, she had her dog tags, she had everything she needed except for a clean bill of health.

Maybe going AWOL as a newly appointed Lieutenant who had just been discovered to be lying to the army for the last few years wasn't the best idea, but she didn't care all that much. What was the point of being allowed to stay in the army id she couldn't be there when her brothers needed her most? Without forming any plan, she hastily changed from the hospital gown she was wearing into her uniform. She peered out of the room and into the hallway. Not seeing any doctors or nurses around, she slipped out of the room and basically ran the rest of the way out of the hospital. Easy breezy. Now, came the more difficult part. How the hell was she supposed to get back to the Bois Jacques woods when she was here in France?

Her eyes landed on a supply truck and she made her way over slowly, trying to act like she wasn't escaping. "Soldier, where's this truck going?" The man turned and saluted her quickly once he noticed her rank.  

"Bastogne, sir." O'Carroll almost smiled; it seemed as though chances were in her favor today. 

"Good. You've got a new passenger." O'Carroll said and climbed into the passenger seat. The man, thankfully, didn't question it, but just as they were about to leave, one of the doctors stopped them. "Goddamn it..." She cursed as the man gestured for her to get out of the truck.

"Lieutenant,  where do you think you're going?" His arms crossed over his chest. He was standing in front of the truck so she had no choice but to get out.  "You haven't been okayed to go back into combat."

"Listen, doc, I'm fine." Fine was relative. She was finer than she had been and she was finer than she would be if someone hit her side. "I _need_ to get back to my men. I can't spend another minute wasting away in this hospital while they're out there getting barraged by Kraut artillery. And nothing is going to stop me from getting to them." She somehow managed to keep a stern face, but something told her he could easily stop her from going back.

The doctor watched her for a moment before raising one finger. "One more day. You stay here one more day and if I think you're really doing better, I'll let you go."

"Seriously?" Bridget said, a little dumbfounded.

The doctor nodded. "Yes, just give yourself one more day to rest up. Doing so gives us a chance to send word ahead to your Company that they should be expecting you tomorrow as well." O'Carroll nodded, barely holding in a cheer. Come tomorrow, she'd be out of this damned hospital and back where she belonged, no matter what the doctor said.

The next morning, the doctor looked her over closely. She could tell he still wasn't keen on letting her go, but the wounds on her side were already healing, and scarring, nicely and they knew that either way, she would undoubtedly try to go AWOL again. They finally signed her release papers in the afternoon and she was soon packed and in the back of a jeep, waiting to be driven back to Bastogne. It took almost an hour to reach where the 506th was and when they finally pulled to a stop outside of the 506th Battalion CP, it wasn't soon enough. As she climbed out of the truck, Bridget drew her coat tighter over her chest. While glad to be back on the line, she certainly hadn't missed this damn snow. At least she had warm clothes now. O'Carroll had only taken a few steps when Winters came out to meet her. She saluted him.

"Lieutenant O'Carroll," Winters greeted. He returned the salute, but then offered out his hand to her. "I was surprised to hear that they were sending you back so soon. You didn't have anything to do with that, did you?"

"I might have tried to go AWOL." She laughed softly and reached forward to shake his hand. "I was just ready to be back with the men, sir. It didn't feel right to be sitting around at a hospital."

Winters shook his head, the slightest smirk on his face. "You men are going to get me in trouble with how many of you go AWOL." 

"You know that's the last thing we'd want to do." Bridget wondered briefly if he had taken any flak for her being a woman. She didn't ask, however, because she doubted he'd tell her anyway. "Where would you like me to report, sir?"

He gestured into the tent and she followed him in. "We were thinking you report to 2nd platoon, working under Compton would be a good way for you to learn the ropes. Sound good to you?"

"Yes, sir." She grinned; there was nowhere else she'd rather be than with 2nd platoon.

"Good, I figured as much." He smiled and led her to a map to point out where exactly 2nd platoon was. "Buck knows to fill you in once you get there, so don't worry about not knowing the situation. Alright?" She nodded in understanding and turned to leave. "Lieutenant." Bridget stopped to look at Winters again. "If anyone gives you any kind of trouble, you come see me."

"With all due respect, sir, I've managed to take care of myself for this long. I'm not too worried." He nodded and she gave another small salute before leaving the tent. As she made her way through the woods towards 2nd, she spotted a familiar group of people huddled in a group.

"I'm telling you boys, we're screwed." Bill Guarnere was grumbling. "And I bet this new Louie is gonna be just as bad." They were talking about her without even realizing it. She stood back a moment, half hidden by a tree, to listen to them complain. Boy, were they going to be in for a surprise.

"You ask me, I'm glad Lieutenant Dike's never around." Penkala said.

"Hey, you know what?" Bridget felt a tug in her heart at the sound of Malarkey's voice. She hadn't been gone that long, how could she have missed it so much? Knowing how he felt and knowing she felt the same way  might have had something to do with it. "We're doing alright. Even with Foxhole Norman."

"Yeah, Don, we're doing alright. We're doing alright now." Guarnere said. "In case you ain't noticed, there's a little town down the hill over there, right? And in that town are these guys, and these guys are called Germans. And these Germans got tanks."

"I know." Don interrupted, exasperated.

"Yeah." Bill continued anyway. "And our side's gonna wanna go into that town. You wanna take one guess at who they're gonna want to go knocking on the goddamn doors."

"I know, Bill, alright? It's me you're talking to here." Malarkey said.

"Jesus Christ. We've gotta do all this with a C.O. who's head is so far up his fucking ass that lump in his throat is his goddamn nose." Guarnere said angrily making Skip and Penkala chuckle, but Malarkey only looked down at something in his hands.

"Yeah, and without Bridget." He said so softly she almost didn't hear him from where she was standing. Suddenly, listening in had lost its appeal and so she was about to step forward, when she saw Lipton approaching the group.

"Hey, 1st Sergeant." Muck said, being the first one to notice him.

"Hey, boys." Lipton said as he stopped outside their foxhole.

"Hey, Sarge."

"Hey, Lip."

"Hey, Muck, what's the word?" Lipton asked.

"Oh, you know." Skip responded. "Sitting around freezing our ass off. Singing Dike's praises and hoping our new LT is just like him. You know, some replacement that is going to get us killed."

"Oh, yeah. Lieutenant Dike. Well I'll tell you," Lip sat down to join them. "I wouldn't want to be a replacement officer coming in here, getting thrown in with a group of guys, who've known each other for what? Two years? That have been in combat together since Normandy. You're supposed to just show up and lead them? How's a guy do that? How could anyone really hope to gain the respect of the toughest, most professional, most dedicated sons of bitches in the entire E.T.O? Huh? So, if you ask me, a guy'd have to march off to Berlin and come back with Hitler's mustache or something." The group laughed softly. "Anyway, listen, you guys, don't worry about Dike and the new guy, alright?"

"Yeah." Don responded.

"We all do our jobs, everything'll be fine." Lipton said, patting Guarnere's knee before getting up to leave.

"See you, Sarge."

"Yeah, boy." Lipton said as he walked away.

Guarnere watched him for a moment before saying anything. "Either way, how much do you want to bet the new Lieutenant is some piss-poor soldier who thinks he's hot shit?" Leave it to Guarnere to not really listen.

"You mean like Sobel?" Penkala scoffed. O'Carroll took personal offense at that and decided that now it was definitely time to intervene.

"That better not be me you boys are talking about." She finally spoke up and stepped out from around the tree and took a few steps forward. They all looked up and shock instantly filled their faces. "Because if you're comparing me to Sobel, I'm going to have to kick your asses right now."

"Jesus Christ, look who it is." Guarnere finally said with a happy laugh. He jumped up and moved to her. He reached out to shake her hand and then pulled her in for a quick hug. "They went and made you a Lieutenant, did they? They sure will let anyone be an officer these days."

"You're an asshole." She laughed and looked past him to see Malarkey. Everyone had stood up, but he was still frozen in his spot.

"We thought you were dead!" Muck exclaimed, moving forward so he could shake her hand now.

"What the hell made you think a few splinters were going to kill me?!" She scoffed as she moved from him to shake Penkala's hand as well. "Haven't you learned better by now?"

"Well, they weren't telling us anything about what happened to you." Muck said as he pulled out a cigarette to smoke. "We might have made them think that if they did anything to you, the entirety of Easy would mutiny and so they weren't telling us what had been going on."

"Are you shitting me?" She laughed and glanced at Don again who slipped something into his pocket and was finally getting to his feet.

"Not at all," Guarnere  smirked and pointed at himself. "That was all me and Luz. We spread the word and let Sink know that there would be hell to pay. Heck, even Buck was in on it."

"God damn," She muttered and hid her face behind her hand for a moment. Bridget had never considered that she meant that much to the men. They had been willing to get themselves executed for mutiny for her just as they had done for Winters. Forget the new rank, she could think of no higher honor than that. She recovered quickly, however, and was smiling again. "So, which one of you boys is gonna volunteer to go get Hitler's mustache since it obviously won't be Dike?"

"I'll do it." The other three moved to look at Malarkey, giving O'Carroll a chance to see him clearly now. There was the slightest smile on his face. "Hitler's mustache would be a pretty good trophy, maybe my brother would forgive me for not getting him a Luger."  He laughed softly. The other three looked between the Malarkey and O'Carroll before  silently walking away to give them some space. Both Bridget and Don watched with amused expressions as their friends walked away.

"So, did you think I was dead too?" She meant to sound like she was joking, but it came out a little hoarse.

"No," Malarkey looked down and shook his head. "Something told me you were still alive." When he looked up and they finally caught each other's eyes, he breathed in sharply. "Christ, am I glad to see you again though."

"Yeah, me too." O'Carroll's voice cracked. A moment later, she had closed the distance between them and was hugging him as tightly as she dared. He instantly wrapped his arms around her to hold her close. She buried her face against his shoulder, savoring what she knew was a moment that couldn't last forever.

When they pulled away, it was too soon for both of them. "By the way," Malarkey murmured and reached into his pocket. "Before you accidentally see it and get mad again." He laughed as he pulled a torn piece of paper out of his pocket. "I found it the day after they took you out and, well, it just seemed to be fate, you know?" O'Carroll lightly took the paper from him to look at it. It was the photograph of her or at least a fragment of the photograph. All that remained of her in the photograph was her shoulder and the slightest bit of her neck. "I kept it just in case you... but you can have it now."

"Keep it." She mumbled and put it back into his hand, closing his fingers over the paper. "I want you to have it." O'Carroll's hand stayed on his. "That's what... that's what soldiers do, yeah? Keep a photograph of the woman they love with them? I mean, it's a little torn up now, but it still counts." She laughed and watched their hands, her heart beating like a drum. Bridget took a few more breaths before looking up at him. "I don't deserve it, Don. I really don't, especially not after how I treated you." He was about to protest, but she stopped him. "Just... just let me do this, okay? You did it your way and now it's my turn." At those words, his grip on her hand and the photograph tightened, but he didn't try to say anything else. "You were right, Don. I do love you. I love you so much it hurts sometimes and I hate it." She chuckled and shook her head. "I hate it so much because I know I could lose you at any moment. But you were right... denying it doesn't make it any less true and I can't... I can't pretend anymore. I've been pretending to be someone else for two years now and now I get to be myself and... and part of that is being in love with you." She let out a heavy breath and nodded. "And it's not going to be easy. I'm a Lieutenant now and we're still fighting. We can't lose our heads and forget where we are because of this."

"Hey... just hearing you say it, that's enough for now." He smiled and moved his hand from hers to return the photo to his pocket. "We can figure out all the rest later." His hand lightly caressed her cheek for a moment before he gestured behind him. "Come on, how about I bring you to Buck so you can get settled back in?"

* * *

 

The next day, the third of January, first platoon received what they thought was fantastic news. Peacock had been chosen to go back to the States in order to drum up the war effort. Lieutenant Foley would be taking his place and Foley had shown himself to be a more capable leader. O'Carroll was kind of glad that Peacock didn't realize exactly why his platoon was so happy for him to be going home. Also that day, Joe Toye returned to the company. Guarnere couldn't be happier now that his two friends were back.

"Well, lookie here." Toye said as he moved from Guarnere to O'Carroll to shake her hand. "Just when I thought we had finally gotten rid of you, no such luck."

"Yeah," O'Carroll laughed. "Sorry to disappoint, but it seems like army isn't quite ready to toss me out onto the streets." She shrugged a shoulder and walked over to Malarkey to stand in line for food with him.

"Hey, fellas, look who I found." Guarnere said as he pat Toye's shoulder and brought him forward to the rest of the group.

"Hey, Joe Toye, back for more." Muck called out.

"How are you, Joe?" Penk asked and shook his hand.

"Yeah, doing pretty good. Escaped from the aid station." Joe chuckled softly.

"Where'd you get hit?" A replacement asked and Joe stared at him for a moment.

"What's that?" Toye asked.

"Ah, it's Webb." Muck answered. "Replacement."

"Really, thought it was some guy I've known for two years and I forgot his face." Joe said with his usual deadpan humor.

"Joe got hit in the arm." Penk answered. "New Year's Eve Gift from a Luftwaffe."

"Jesus." Joe muttered.

"A lot of you guys been injured?" Webb asked.

"It's called wounded, Peanut. Injured is when you fall out of a tree or something." Martin corrected him.

"Don't worry, there's enough crap flying around here, you're bound to get dinged sometime." Muck said, as though that was supposed to be a comfort to the kid. "Almost every single one of these guys has been hit at least once. Except for Alley, he's a two-timer. He landed on broken glass in Normandy, and got peppered by a potato masher in Holland." He pat Mo's chest before moving on. He turned around quickly to point out Bridget where she was standing with Don. "And Lieutenant O'Carroll over there is another two-timer. She got a nice hole right through the arm in Normandy and then a few dozen more in her side as a Christmas gift."

"The Krauts sure know how to give presents." She laughed, her hand resting on her side.

"They sure do." Muck nodded before continuing on down the line. "Now, Bull, he got a piece of exploding tank in Holland. And George Luz here, has never been hit. You're one lucky bastard."

"Takes one to know one, Skip." Luz said with a mouth full of food.

"Ah, consider us blessed." Muck continued pointing people and their injuries out. "Now Liebgott, that skinny little guy, he got pinked in the neck in Holland. And right next to him, that other skinny little guy, that's Popeye. He got shot in his scrawny little butt in Normandy."

"And, uh," Malarkey spoke up from next to O'Carroll. "Buck got shot in his rather large butt in Holland."

"Yeah, kind of an Easy Company tradition, getting shot in the ass." Penkala said.

"That's one tradition I'd rather not be a part of personally." O'Carroll said with a soft laugh. Besides, she had been injured enough as it was.

"Hey, even 1st Sergeant Lipton over there," Muck pointed to where Lip was standing with Guarnere. "He got a couple of pieces of a tank shell burst at Carentan. One chunk in the face. Another chunk almost took out his nuts." The others laughed, but O'Carroll remembered just how worried about the incident the man had been. The kid wasn't laughing either, probably feeling a little nervous after hearing just how many of the men standing around him had been injured.

"Listen, Webb," Penkala said with the slightest grin. "It's only metal tearing through your flesh and leaving you in a lot of pain. No big deal."

Webb gulped so loudly it was comical. O'Carroll managed to hold back her own laugh, however, and pat his shoulder. "Don't you worry, kid. As long as you don't do anything  stupid, the medics do a pretty good job at taking care of us. Take it from someone who has actually been injured and wasn't nursing a paper cut like Alex was." She said louder and looked pointedly at Penkala, the group started laughing again. "You'll be okay."  

That afternoon, most of E Company was heading back to their old positions overlooking the town of Foy. Some 'lucky' men stayed behind with D Company in order to continue holding the main line of resistance. As the rest of Easy walked by, they threw a few jokes at those left behind. Mostly jokes about the rumors surrounding Speirs.

"Wouldn't drink too much if I were you." Alley offered as he passed by Christenson, Perconte, and Webb.

O'Carroll laughed and nudged Don who then lowered his gun and pretended to aim it at the men as they went by. "Hey, be careful if he offers you a cigarette!" Bridget provided the noise of a Thompson as Malarkey moved the gun back and forth.

"What are they talking about?" The kid, Webb, asked and they left Christenson to explain to him what the hell the others were talking about. When they reached their old foxholes, the men quickly learned to not jump right in. Apparently, people had taken a shit in almost every single foxhole. It was only then that they noticed all of the destroyed trees from all of the tree bursts that had been hitting the area. No one could blame them then for not wanting to leave the foxhole even just to use the bathroom. Bridget left Don to take care of their foxhole as she went with Buck to go to her first meeting as a Lieutenant. She stood huddled with Compton, Foley, Shames, and Lipton, doing more listening than talking in order to get an idea of how things worked.

"Oh, it looks like the Krauts have been pounding this area with pretty big stuff, 88s. I'd say they got this whole stretch of the line targeted." Lipton said as he gestured around them.

"Well, they're not shelling now." Shames said, pointing out the obvious. "Maybe they've got a new target-"

"No, they're just waiting." Lipton interrupted.

"For what?" Shames asked.

"For us to re-occupy the position." Buck told him as he checked his watch.

"No sense in shelling until they can hit more of us, yeah?" O'Carroll asked and Compton nodded.

"Maybe we should fall back to a different location, dig in." Shames suggested.

"No, it's our job to hold the line here." Lipton said with a shake of his head. "We've got pretty good foxholes. We just need to fortify the covers."

"If they've got us targeted, maybe-" Foley was stopped by Buck.

"We hold the line here. Sergeant Lipton's right. We're gonna strengthen our covers and we're gonna hang in. We're not gonna fall back." He glanced over to where Dike was standing and scoffed softly. "Right, Lieutenant?" He called out loudly.

It took the man a moment to realize he was being spoken to. "Mmm?" He asked and Bridget had to take in a deep breath to stop herself from groaning and rolling her eyes.

"Right, Lieutenant?" Buck asked again with a fake smile on and holding up a thumbs up.

"Fine." Dike said, not even bothering to ask what it was they had even been talking about. "You all take care of it. I gotta go talk to regiment."

"This is the shit you guys have been dealing with?" O'Carroll asked quietly as she watched Dike's retreating figure. She hadn't liked the man before, but now as a Lieutenant, she had an even bigger detestation for him. He couldn't even be there enough to be a part of the Lieutenants' meeting when even Lipton was there. At least as a sergeant she didn't have to deal with him directly, but now she had a better view of just how incompetent he was.

"Yeah," Buck said with a shake of his head. "He's no Captain Winters, that's for damn sure."

"We'd better get moving." Lipton said, before they all fell into a conversation about Dike's inadequacies. O'Carroll nodded and walked with Buck back towards 2nd platoon. Along with Lipton, she walked around to help 2nd gather branches in order to add more cover to their foxholes. To help Malarkey, she found part of a tree that had fallen and started dragging it back toward him when she heard yelling.

"Incoming!" She heard the noise of artillery now. "Take cover!" They yelled again and Bridget looked around. There were no foxholes in the immediate area, she had wandered too far.

"Shit!" O'Carroll dropped the tree and started running back. She saw another soldier trip and fall to the ground, so she grabbed his coat collar and yanked him back up, dragging him with her. Bridget threw him into a foxhole, but before she could join him he started yelling something about another soldier having been hit and laying in the open. "Where is he?" The boy pointed and she began running again. She soon found the other replacement.

"Help!" He was crying out and so Bridget started to drag him back to the foxhole. It seemed like only a minor arm wound, but he was panicking and not trying to get himself to safety. He was far too heavy to drag all that way as it was, but his struggling made it even more difficult. Bridget looked around, frantic, hoping to find help. There was no one nearby. She could easily get to a foxhole herself if she just left the boy on his own... She looked down at his blubbering face. There was no way she could bring herself to do that.

"Goddamn it!" Bridget cursed to herself and continued pulling him along, all the while mumbling to herself. "I swear to fucking God if I get hit by another tree burst because of you I will rip your Goddamn arm offmyself." Somehow, she managed to get them both to the foxhole safely. Though she flinched every time there was a particularly loud explosive or one nearby, O'Carroll fought to stay in control and stay focused on wrapping up the boys arm. Who knew when a medic would be able to get to them in this shit?

When the shelling stopped, she stopped the two replacements from getting up; the one had finally stopped crying. "Stay down, boys. They're probably going to start shelling again. I'm going to make sure everyone's alright." Bridget clambered out of the foxhole to go around, ordering everyone to stay in their foxholes. "Stay down, everyone. Stay down." She heard a cry and instantly started running in that direction. Soon, however, the shelling started again, just as she knew it would.

"Bridget!" Someone yelled her name and she looked over to see Malarkey in a nearby foxhole. "Come on!" He yelled again and she was quick to slide into the foxhole. There was no sense in taking any chances when she couldn't tell where the voice was.

"Fuck!" Bridget cursed as a shell hit nearby. The two of them huddled together, staying as low as they could. She could feel Don move in order to keep her more protected from getting hit by anything that might fly into their foxhole and for once she didn't argue.

"Guarnere went to go find Toye!" He said into her ear and his grip on her tightened, as though he feared she would jump up to go get them. She knew running out in this chaos wouldn't help though. She would probably only succeed in getting herself hit again. When the shelling finally stopped once more, it took a moment for the two to let go of each other. "Are you alright?" He asked, his hands resting on her shoulders as he looked for any injuries.

"I'm fine... I... we need to go find Bill..." Bridget said as she stood up. Malarkey and O'Carroll went in the direction he had seen Bill go. It didn't take them long to find him. As they walked into a clearing, both Toye and Guarnere had been wounded. Bill's leg looked bad, but Toye's leg was completely missing and Doc doing what he could to help stop the bleeding. Malarkey rushed forward to help with Toye and O'Carroll stumbled her way to Bill's side.

"What can I do to help?" She vaguely heard Malarkey ask Roe, but soon her focus was entirely on Guarnere. She had seen bad injuries before, but this... this was different. This was Bill Guarnere, a man that sure as hell got on her nerves every now and then, but still one of her closest friends in the Company.

"Bill, it's... it's okay." Bridget tried to comfort him. She lightly rest a hand on his shoulder and tears were quickly gathering in her eyes as she stared at his leg. "I should... I could have helped... I should have..."

"Hey now, there is nothing you could have done, Princess. Don't you start crying for me." Bill said through a shiver, his hands gripping his leg tightly. "You start crying and then I'll start crying and no one wants to see that." He managed a weak laugh. O'Carroll didn't laugh, however. She resorted to humor for every situation, but she just couldn't this time.

"You just heal up, okay, Bill?" Bridget said as she quickly wiped away the tears from her eyes. "I'll see you again when this is all over." She sounded stronger than she felt at that moment.

"Bill, you're going first." Roe said as the medics approached them.

"Whatever you say, Doc, whatever you say."

"Over here, take this man." Roe gestured to Guarnere. O'Carroll was pushed aside so that they could get Bill onto the stretcher. Lipton had joined them by now and he moved to help her to her feet.

"Hey, Lip, they got old Guarnere this time." Bill said from the stretcher before they picked him up. As they carried him past Toye, he spared one last look at his friend. "Hey, Joe, I told you I'd beat you back to the states." He said. O'Carroll stood there, staring as they carried her friend away.

Now she understood why her father never talked about the war.


	14. The Longest Winter

Buck Compton was taken off the line and back to an aid station, supposedly for a case of trench foot, but everyone knew that wasn't the case. He had been best friends with Guarnere and Toye. Getting shot in Holland had been bad enough, but seeing them get hit like that was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back. No one blamed him, not even for a moment.

And he wasn't the only one having trouble.

With Buck off the line now, the duty of leading 2nd platoon fell on O'Carroll. With no real experience and only a short time to work with Buck, she wasn't sure she would be up to the task. She had no choice, however, and refused to give up on the men on account of her own misgivings. Some of the men, especially those closest to her, remained worried about her as she stepped up for the job. Everyone knew she had been Guarnere's friend too and everyone expected her to have a breakdown of some sort. She never did, but she was almost certainly not herself.  After she had watched Guarnere be taken away, she felt numb, as though she had been held under freezing water for too long. It pained Malarkey to see her like that. It was good that she wasn't crying, but she also wasn't smiling or reacting to anything.  And worst of all, she had grown distant even with him for the past few days.

"Lieutenant O'Carroll, sit down." Captain Winters said as he gestured to one of the two chairs in the Battalion CP. He had asked to see her and so she had been standing around the CP for the last 5 minutes, sure that bad news was heading her way. He waited for her to take a seat before offering her coffee. She shook her head, not really feeling in the mood for a cup of coffee and a chat.

"Is there something you needed, sir?" O'Carroll asked, her voice thin. Her exhaustion was just as evident on her face. It looked almost as though she had aged several years in just the past few days.

"Yes, there was." He sat down across from her and set his cup of coffee down. "I know things have been rough since you got back. Taking command of the entire platoon so suddenly doesn't help at all, I'm sure." Winters watched her for a reaction, but she only stared blankly at him as she waited for him to continue. "If you need to talk or spend some tim-"

"Sir, I'm fine." Bridget said as she tensed slightly, the last thing she wanted was to be treated like some fragile thing that may crack at any moment. She had become an expert at packing away things to not deal with until later, this one was just taking a little longer.

"Very well." Winters sighed and reached into his pocket to pull out a small pin to hold out to her. It was a silver bar. "The reason why I asked you here today is because they're promoting you to First Lieutenant."

"I don't understand..." She said as she took the bar, her thumb running over it. "Don't I need to have a year's worth of experience as a lieutenant or something like that?" Either way, Bridget reached up to remove the gold bar that she was already wearing on her collar.

"Normally, yes, but you are a speci-"

"Special case." O'Carroll finished for him, having heard it before from the General who made her a lieutenant in the first place. As she put her old bar into her pocket, Bridget suddenly felt the first thing she had in days. Anger bubbled up inside her in such a fast rate she almost exploded. "It's because I'm a woman, isn't it? They're trying to promote me off the field." Her jaw twitched as Winters nodded.

"That... that seems to be the case, yes. They're afraid that the men will rise up against them if they get you off the field in any other way and-"

"I can't believe this." O'Carroll scoffed and forcefully put the new pin onto her uniform. "Maybe instead of feeding me bullshit about being a good leader, they should have just went ahead and handed me a typewriter and tell me to get used to it because apparently that's all a woman is good for."

"I understand you're angry, Bridget." He said in an unbearably calm voice and while it caught her attention that he used her real name for the first time, it did nothing to soothe her. "Heck, if I was in your position, I would be angry too, but-"

"But you're not in my position, sir, and you don't understand." She tried to keep her tone respectful, Winters was a good man, but it was getting more and more difficult. Her hand curled into a fist and she kneaded it hard against her thigh. "I worked my ass off to be here. I care about those men and they respect me. That doesn't change just because they know my name is Bridget and not Patrick. I am the same Goddamned person I was when I jumped into Normandy. The same person I was when my squad held the damn line just outside of Carentan and-"

"Lieutenant!" Winters said sharply, cutting her off. His usual passive face now had a hint of frustration in his features that instantly shut O'Carroll up. "I was going to put you in for a battlefield commission even before you got hit for all of those reasons." 

"Oh..." She said softly. Bridget looked down at her hands, ashamed. After feeling nothing for the past few days, her anger and sorrow over Bill had finally hit her and she was using this as an excuse to express it. Yes, she was angry about this whole situation as well, but he wasn't the person she should have been taking her anger out on.

"And I was planning on doing so even though I already knew you were a woman." The words hung in the air for a moment and she gaped up at him. At one point, Bridget had considered that maybe he knew, but she had quickly dismissed that idea. Winters was a very by the book person and letting someone lie like she had was very against the book.

"You..." Her brow creased in confusion, but she soon figured it out. "Peterson told you, didn't he?" She thought back to the man she had punched on D-Day. That felt like a lifetime ago. "He told you and you did nothing about it and that's why he was mad when he saw me still fighting. That's why he was going back to HQ when he..."

"Yes, Peterson told me." He shifted to sit back in his chair with the softest sigh. "But I knew before. Well, I had guessed at least. Peterson only confirmed it and told me your name."

"How? How did you know?" O'Carroll asked, sitting back as well. "And for how long?" 

"Toccoa." That was especially surprising to hear. He had known that early on and still let her stay? "Believe it or not, I'm very observant, O'Carroll." He chuckled softly. "I could see that most of the men treated you differently and, tried as you might, you didn't quite act like everyone else."

"Thank you then, sir, for not telling. For giving me a chance to fight just like everyone else."

"I could tell you would be good soldier and an even better leader." Winters noticed her confusion and continued to elaborate on what he meant. "That night you helped Christenson, when you gave him some of your water. That was when I knew for sure that I couldn't turn you in."

It amazed her he could remember that when she herself had nearly forgotten about the incident. "That was nothing, sir."

"That was everything actually." He picked up his coffee to drink a few sips. "You sacrificed yourself, in a sense, for one of the other men. And then that action was enough to inspire the rest of the men to do similar things. That means more than you seem to know." 

Bridget rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. "I- thank you, sir." She stood up. "Is there anything else you needed?"

"Just," Winters set his cup back down and stood up as well. "Bridget... I know you said you're fine, but don't let your pride keep you from being the best you can be for your men. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."She stared down at her hands. How had she not thought about how her disconnection could affect the men?"I'll... I'll talk to someone, sir."

"That's all I needed to hear. Head on back to the line now, Lieutenant." She saluted him before turning to leave the tent.

When she returned to the men, the change was obvious. She didn't openly grieve or anything like that, but she no longer felt numb and it showed. She even chatted with some of her men as she made her rounds in the platoon, making sure everyone was in top shape. 

"Hey, Bridget, what did Winters want?" O'Carroll looked over to see Malarkey heading her way.

"He wanted to make sure I was okay and see if I wanted to talk." It was obvious that those two things concerned Malarkey as well. "And I told him I am and that I have someone to talk to." She nodded at him and that made him relax a little, perhaps she wouldn't be so distant now. "Oh, and he was told to give me another promotion." 

"What?" Malarkey looked just as confused as she had felt. "But they promoted you just a few days ago." 

"That's what I said." She sighed softly. "It turns out they want to promote me as quickly as possible to get me the hell off the field and behind a desk." 

"Are you shittin' me?" Malarkey's jaw dropped in disbelief. "Why the hell would they want to do that?"

"You know why." She said simply.

"Well, that's not a good enough reason." He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. "So what you're actually a woman? You've proved yourself to be a good soldier either way." 

"No, it's not a good enough reason and you're right, but there is nothing I can do." Bridget's anger returned, not toward him, but rather at the Army in general. She shook it off quickly. "I'm on thin ice as it is, and if I try to fight the fact they are promoting me? My ass will be kicked out of the army faster than I could even have the chance to ask for a Court-Martial."

"And we wouldn't want that." The two of them started walking again. 

"Doesn't stop me from wanting to  pull their heads out of each other's asses and knock them together. Maybe that will knock some sense into them." She scoffed.

"You're starting to sound like your old self again." Malarkey chuckled softly as he looked at her. He was happy to see her chuckling as well. "What exactly did Winters say?"

She nodded a few times and looked down at her hands. "He just reminded me that I need to be there for my men. That I can't afford to tune out."

"Makes sense." Malarkey said and O'Carroll glanced over at him. 

"And I figured it wasn't fair to you anyway. That I cut you off like I did." He stopped her from walking, but let her continue speaking. "I do care about you, I just have an awful way of showing it. I'm sorry."

"You just saw one of your friends in really bad shape, Birdie. You have no reason to say sorry to me." Malarkey looked around before cupping her chin in his hand. "When this war is over... we can work through everything together, but for now you do what you can to survive, okay?"

"Something to look forward to then, huh? If the war ever does end." She chuckled softly as she looked at him.

"Damn Krauts." His thumb brushed lightly over her lips and he wondered for a short moment just what it would be like to kiss her. Now was not the time for it, however, and his hand fell back to his side. "Can't they just give up already?" He chuckled and Bridget did as well, though there was a hint of disappointment on her face.

 

* * *

 

In the following days, Easy Company was set to clear the woods on the other side of Foy. It was a fairly easy task as they ran into little conflict. They found themselves digging into the hard ground again for new foxholes. Even as a Lieutenant, Bridget found herself sharing a foxhole with Malarkey once again. No one blamed them for it, three of their friends had just been shipped out, of course they would spend that much time together. That evening, they stood huddled around with the last of their friends; Muck, Penkala, and Luz.

"You fellas know I got no reason to bullshit you, right?" Luz said, ready to begin the last story of the night. O'Carroll was already shaking her head as she sucked in another breath of smoke from her cigarette. Luz not exaggerating? That was hard to believe.

"Yeah, right." Penkala scoffed.

"Luz, I don't think I've believed a word you've said since basic." Bridget said as she let out a laugh with the smoke.

"Look, I'm not gonna bullshit you. This is what I saw." Luz said seriously. "It was so unbelievable, you might not believe me. So, you-know-who comes running up to Lipton. He's got no helmet, no gear, no nothing." Luz switched to his Dike impression and O'Carroll almost instantly started laughing. "Ah, 1st Sergeant Lipton, you organize things here, and I'm gonna go for help." The rest of the group laughed as well now. O'Carroll figured she should probably scold him for it, but just couldn't bring herself to do it this time."I need to go polish my oak leaf clusters."

"Hey, Luz." Lipton called over from not too far away. It seemed like he would be doing what she wouldn't.

"Complete asshole." Muck chuckled and shook his head.

"That's really good." Don laughed as he elbowed Muck lightly.

"It's okay." Muck said.

"Did he really do that?" O'Carroll asked and Luz nodded.

"Um, fellas." Luz said as a goodbye and walked away to see what Lip wanted.

"Goodnight, goodnight all." Malarkey said and started off toward their foxhole.

"Yeah, see you, Luz, see you, Malark, Lieutenant." Muck said, but Bridget stopped him for a short moment.

"Hey, Skip. I just wanted to tell you that you were right." She said and he watched her with a confused face. "I finally told him." This made a wide smile crack on Muck's face. Finally after months of pining, his two friends had stopped being idiots. "It gives us both something to keep fighting for." She waited for the inevitable 'I told you so,' but Skip just clasped her shoulder and nodded.

"Good, I'm glad. You two are perfect for each other, I just can't believe it took you both so long." He laughed and let go of her. "You have a good night, Bridge."

"You too." She smiled and rushed to catch up with Malarkey. They had almost reached the foxhole when they heard the telltale sound of artillery."Get down!" O'Carroll yelled back at everyone before pulling Malarkey to the foxhole so they could both drop in. "Everyone get down! Stay down!" O'Carroll continued ordering from her foxhole, this time it was far too dangerous to be running around. As he had done to her before, she moved to partially cover him from any stray blasts that may have come their way. Even when the shelling finally stopped, they stayed that way, eventually drifting into an uneasy sleep.

"Hey, Malark..." The voice was enough to wake O'Carroll up and she attempted to blink the sleep from her eyes. Her eyes finally managed to stay open and landed Luz standing over the two of them, grimfaced.

"Hey, George, what is it?" Malarkey said, awake now as well. The two of them pulled away from each other to step out of the foxhole.

"It's Muck and Penkala." His voice cracked ever so slightly, but it was enough to stop Bridget in her tracks. "A shell hit their foxhole, it was a direct hit. I saw the whole thing." Luz mumbled. Malarkey's face instantly went blank.

"They're dead?" Bridget asked, though she already knew the answer. No one could have survived that.

Luz nodded. "They, um, they're completely gone." He sniffed and rubbed his nose. "We... we were going to look to see if we could find anything of theirs if you two wanted to..." He faded out as he watched Malarkey. Everyone liked Skip and Alex, but they were Don's best friends outside of O'Carroll.

"I'll go." Bridget set a hand on Don's shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. He didn't need to see that.

"I will too." Malarkey finally said as he softly moved her hand from his shoulder. She only nodded instead of arguing and then they followed Luz the short distance to the foxhole.

"Jesus Christ..." O'Carroll muttered softly as her hand covered her mouth. Luz hadn't been exaggerating, there was nothing of them left. Well, except for part of the rosary that Skip had always carried with him that Luz managed to find in the debris. Luz handed it to Malarkey who only stared at it for a moment before he stood up to leave. O'Carroll went to follow him but he gently stopped her.

"I just need a moment." Don said before continuing away.

"Hey..." Luz came up to her and set a hand on her shoulder as she watched Malarkey leave.

"I don't know how to help him." She said, her voice soft. "I can do my damndest to stop him from getting hit, but I don't know how... how do I fix this?"

"Just give him the time he needs. That's all you can do for now." Luz sighed and dropped his hand to his side again. "And then just be there for him after. That'll mean more than you think."

When O'Carroll decided it was time for her to be there for Malarkey, she made her way back to their foxhole to find him. As she approached, Lipton was just leaving.

Lip stopped her before they walked by each other. "Lieutenant... Bridget, keep an eye on him, alright? I don't think he'll crack, but we're all worried about him..." She nodded, she didn't need to be told twice to do that.

"Hey, Don." O'Carroll said once she finally reached the foxhole. He didn't even look up at her. "Can I join you?" He nodded and she lowered herself into the foxhole. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm... I'm okay. I won't be, but for now I am." Malarkey said with a soft sigh. "For now I know I need to stay sharp."

"You had an easier time learning that than I did." O'Carroll muttered and set a hand lightly on his back. "Just... just know that if you need someone to talk to about it all, I'm here for you. I want to help however I can." That was when she noticed the Kraut weapon in his hands. "You got a Luger? Your brother is going to love that."

A ghost of a smile appeared on his face, a change in the topic was just what he needed. "It was Hoob's, Lip gave it to me." He must have seen her eyeing it warily; Hoobler had shot himself with that Luger. "It's not loaded, don't worry." She didn't say anything. "Bridget," He broke the silence and reached over to take her hand in his. She gave it a squeeze. "I was wondering if you wanted to come see Buck off with me? Lip told me I should go and I thought... thought you'd like to see him too."

"I would like that." O'Carroll smiled as well and they soon were driving off the line. They spent an hour with Buck, well, O'Carroll mostly stood back to give Malarkey a chance with the man. As they stood by the jeep for final goodbyes, however, Buck gestured her forward. She moved to him and he took her hand, gripping it tightly before shaking it.

 "I know you're worried about taking my place, O'Carroll, but I know you can do this. There's no one else I trust more to do it." She smiled slightly, appreciating his encouragement. He gave her a slight nod. "Now you take care of these men, you hear me, Bridget? You take care of them and then yourself as well."

"Yes, sir. I'll do my best." She stepped back so that Malarkey could say his own goodbyes.

* * *

 

A few days after seeing Buck off, O'Carroll's first real test as Lieutenant came. The assault on the town of Foy. All of the Lieutenants were briefed on what was to happen and, in turn, she told her men what was expected from them. She was nervous, there was no denying that, but she was more nervous about Dike and what he was going to do, or, more likely, not going to do.

Easy's machine guns began firing and that was their sign to get moving. The Germans started firing back almost instantly, they had been expecting an attack to happen any day now after all. Shouts of "Keep moving!" filled the air as Easy pressed on across the field. There were a few causalities, but things seemed to be going well until O'Carroll heard one lone shout above the chaos.

"Easy Company! Hold up!" Dike was yelling and she couldn't believe her ears. If they stopped now they would lose any momentum they had. And yet what could she do besides follow an order given by her C.O.?

"2nd Platoon, hold up!" O'Carroll called and she heard Lipton call the order out after her. The platoon pulled to a stop. "Let's find some cover men!" They moved into hiding and she looked for Dike, spotting him moving to hide behind a stack of hay. "I'm gonna find out what the hell is going on! Sergeant Lipton, on me!" They fell back to where Dike was. "What are we doing, Lieutenant?" Luz, who was with Dike as his radio man, looked at Bridget and she knew he was just about ready to strangle the man.

"Why are we stopped?" Lipton yelled.

"Fall back! Fall back!" Dike ignored them and continued yelling. O'Carroll grabbed his collar and forced him to look at her.

"Lieutenant, what's the plan?" O'Carroll yelled at him and she could see the panic set in on his face.

"I don't know, I don't know, I don't know!" He yelled, but that much was already obvious. Meanwhile, Luz had Winters on the phone and was trying to get Dike to talk to him. O'Carroll could hear Winters yelling through the receiver.

"What's the plan?" Foley from first platoon had joined them now, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Okay, okay, Foley." Dike said and Bridget thought that maybe he was finally getting his act together. "Foley, you take your men, you take your men on a flanking mission around the village, and attack it from the rear." He ordered, but this was almost as bad as giving no order.

"What?" O'Carroll yelled in disbelief.

"We cannot stay here!" Lipton yelled as well.

"You want 1st Platoon to go around and attack the village by itself?" Foley was appropriately dumbfounded.

"We will provide suppressing fire." Dike said, as though that would be enough.

"We're gonna be kind of alone out there, Lieutenant." Foley said.

"We will provide suppressing fire!" Dike said. Without another word of argument, Foley ran back to his platoon.

"Lipton, go tell the men to provide suppressing fire." She ordered him and then turned back to continue yelling at Dike. "Goddamn it, Dike! You can't just sit on your ass here. Our men are dying, for fuck's sake!" She held onto his shoulder shook him, but it did nothing to pull him out of his trance. Meanwhile, Luz was still trying to get him to answer the phone.  Lipton returned and joined Bridget in trying to yell some sense into Dike, but he appeared to have shut down completely.

That was when a miracle occurred.

From the woods, a lone figure ran toward Easy. Ronald Speirs of Dog Company was coming out to help them. A shell hit not too far in front of him but he jumped through the smoke and kept on coming. It was an amazing sight. He reached them seconds later and grabbed Dike by the collar. "I'm taking over. 1st Sergeant Lipton! What have we got?" Lipton explained the situation to him. "Alright, I want mortars and grenade launchers on that building 'till it's gone. When it's gone, I want 1st to go straight in, forget going around, everybody else, follow me." Finally, someone was making some sense.

"Let's go 2nd Platoon! Let's move out! You heard the word, 2nd Platoon, on the C.O!" Bridget yelled and the attack resumed. "Mortars, get the building with the caved in roof. The rest of you, let's keep going, 2nd Platoon!"

With the new C.O, the Company was able to push forward into the town. With renewed vigor, the Germans were soon on the run, but I Company was nowhere in sight to stop them from getting away. That was when their new C.O. ran past the Germans and their tanks. The Krauts were just as shocked as they were and didn't fire at first. Not too long after climbing over the wall to get to 'I Company',  _he came back_.

Now that was a commander.

At least 4 Easy Company men were killed that day by a sniper that shot at them after the attack. Even more were injured. During the attack, Perko decided to follow the Easy Company tradition and got himself shot in the ass. That made four or five ass wounds in Easy Company now. They were sure we would be taken off the line, but that wasn't to be so, as they found out the next morning. They took two more towns. Dike got promoted, which thankfully got him away from them, and she heard word that Lipton was going to get a battlefield commission as well. She felt that Lip truly deserved it, much more than she did at least. They spent that night in a convent thinking maybe now they would be able to get off the line to get a much needed break. In Belgium they had gone from 145 men to 63. O'Carroll truly prayed that night for the first time in a while. She prayed for the recovery of Toye, Guarnere, and Buck. She prayed for the souls of Muck and Penkala. She prayed for the few of them left. Most of all, she prayed for Malarkey. She prayed to God that he would be able to make it through the rest of the war in one piece, though after everything that had happened, that seemed to be asking too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, any comments or reviews are appreciated! Thank you very much for reading.


	15. So, Walk Carefully

It was February 9th when Easy Company pulled into Haguenau, France and for the first time all winter, O'Carroll felt relieved. It wasn't as though it was a great place to be, the Germans were just on the other side of the river, but anything was better than Bastogne. David Webster returned to Easy that day and no one greeted him warmly. He had been shot in Holland and had missed the entirety of their time in the Ardennes forest and so the men he knew were no longer the same as when he had seen them last. And Webster, the man already seen as an outsider even back in Toccoa, was now no better than a replacement in the eyes of the men. Maybe even worse. He hadn't tried to get back, hadn't tried to be there when he could have been.

"Who's leading the platoon?" Webster asked as he followed along behind the truck of 2nd platoon men. Lieutenant Foley had sent him up to them instead of having him rejoin 1st. O'Carroll only stared at her cigarette instead of responding.

"Lieutenant O'Carroll is." Eugene Jackson said, nodding up at where she was standing with Malarkey.

"Lieutenant? When did that happen?" Webster studied the new platoon leader. It was obviously the O'Carroll he had once known, but something was different. Webster had known O'Carroll as one of the laid-back members of Easy Company, but now he was looking at the face of a worn and weary soldier. A lot had changed.

"Bastogne." Jackson answered. "A bit before the attack on Foy."

"Ah, well, he's always been a good leader, so I'm not surprised." Webster said, nodding to himself.

"Yeah,  _he_  has." Liebgott responded with a chuckle and a few of the other guys sniggered as well. Webster didn't even seem to notice, however. For a man from Harvard, he could be pretty clueless.

Malarkey leaned over so that he could whisper into O'Carroll's ear, pulling them both away from their eavesdropping. "He doesn't know yet, does he?" 

"He'll find out soon enough." Bridget said just as softly with the slightest chuckle. "Though someone may have to actually tell him, I don't know if he'll figure it out himself." Even though she had been discovered, O'Carroll was still keeping up the appearances of being a man; short hair, bound chest, basically everything she had been doing before. God knew she wanted to stop, especially with the binding because it hurt after a while, but it just made things easier.

"We'll just have to see how long until he figures it out." Mal smiled and then glanced over at the man as Jackson helped him into the truck. "It might take a few days."

"So, uh, you come from the hospital?" Jackson asked as he looked Webster over, trying to find what obvious injury would have kept him at the hospital for so long.

"Yeah." Webster said, getting as comfortable as he could on the hard bench.

"Must've liked that hospital." Lieb said, the scorn already obvious in his voice.  "'Cause, uh, we left Holland four months ago."

"Well, I wasn't there the whole time." Webster tried to explain. "There was rehabilitation, then the replacement depot."

"Well, I'm sure you tried to bust out and help us in Bastonge, Web." Liebgott scoffed. Even O'Carroll's nose scrunched up a bit. She had seen Webster's wound up close; it hadn't been all that bad. If everyone else had managed to get back, then he could have as well. 

"I don't know how I would have done that." Webster responded.

"That's funny, 'cause Popeye found a way. So did Alley, right, back in Holland?" Liebgott asked, looking at Babe who was sitting next to him, Babe nodded. "And Guarnere and-"

"Yeah, where is Guarnere?" Webster interrupted and O'Carroll tensed slightly, he should have known better than to ask that. "He still your platoon sergeant?" 

"No." Jackson said.

"Alright, let's go." Malarkey ordered as the truck pulled to a stop.

Jackson stood up. "He got hit."

"Yeah?" Webster asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, Bill got hit." Babe spoke up now as he moved by Webster. "Blew his whole leg off."

"Get moving." O'Carroll said as the rest of the platoon piled off the truck. As the milled about on the sidewalk, she gestured down the line. "Okay, spread out. Hold along this line 'till I figure out where we're going." She ordered and started walking to a higher officer.

"Lieutenant?" Webster was trying to get her attention, but before he could, the sound of shelling filled the air and everyone ducked, but that was it. Webster, on the other hand, jumped to the ground. He hadn't grown used to artillery fire as they had.

"What's the matter there, Webster?" Malarkey asked as he looked down at the man as he stood up, a smile on his face. "Nervous in the service?" O'Carroll lightly tapped Don's arm and shook her head when he looked at her. However, she had the slightest smile as well that practically negated the scolding.

"Uh, no. No, I'm fine, Sarge." Webster mumbled as he moved back toward them.

"Why don't you go talk to Captain Speirs, make sure he wants you with us." Malarkey told him as O'Carroll went to talk to someone to find out where they would be going. He gestured at where Webster could find him.

"Captain Speirs? What happened to Captain Winters?"

"He's running the whole Battalion now. Go." Malarkey left to join the other 2nd platoon men waiting for O'Carroll.

"Ok 2nd platoon, on me." O'Carroll said, as she walked back to the men. They huddled close around her. It was hard to believe that there were so few of them left now. She pointed to a building nearby. "We're gonna be in this building here, OP 2. So, let's go on in and get settled down. They're going to brief us on the situation and we'll tell you what to expect, alright?" They nodded and all of the men filed into the building. O'Carroll and Malarkey listened closely as they were briefed on the situation while the others all instantly claimed their own beds and then began exploring the building.

* * *

 

Webster eventually returned to 2nd platoon, it seemed as though Speirs agreed that 2nd could use the extra man. "Hey, guys. This taken?" He asked as he moved to place his bag on a bed. O'Carroll's attention moved to the man who had come in with Webster. His helmet, that looked to be a size too big for his head, had a single bar on it. Another Lieutenant. She didn't have to ask, because soon Webster was moving forward to introduce the kid. "Lieutenant, Sergeant, this is Lieutenant Jones. Just assigned to 2nd platoon."

"I'm 1st Lieutenant O'Carroll." O'Carroll held out her hand and he shook it once he had taken his helmet off. "And this is Malarkey, the platoon Sergeant." She gestured to the man who was now busy setting up the radio.

This time, Jones held out his hand. "Congratulations on the Battlefield Commission." Malarkey stared at his hand for a moment, taking a second to realize that it was outstretched toward him instead of O'Carroll.

"The what?" He asked, but shook his hand anyway. At the sound of a soft snicker, O'Carroll turned to look at the men standing by the window. Liebgott and the others were trying to hide their smiles. She shook her head and resumed going through the supplies they had and making notes on what they may need more of.

"They're making you an officer, no?" The kid asked, obviously confused. Webster and Malarkey now glanced over at the men by the window.

"Me, no." Malarkey said with a laugh as he turned back to the radio. "That was O'Carroll here. Or you must be thinking of 1st Sergeant Lipton."

"My mistake." The new lieutenant moved to place his things down on the table. He looked back at O'Carroll. "I guess I'll be assisting you, sir."

"I guess so. Glad to have you join us, Jones." She said without looking up from her work.

"Thanks." Jones looked between the two of them. "So, do you wanna introduce me to the men?"

"Well," Malarkey said, his slight irritation obvious, couldn't the man see they were busy?  "Some are sleeping downstairs and the rest are right here." O'Carroll quickly turned her laugh into a cough. Jones nodded toward the men before moving in closer to O'Carroll and lowering his voice.

"Lieutenant-" He started, but she instantly stopped him.

"Please, just call me Bridget. You're an L-T too."

"Bridget? But isn't that-"

"A woman's name? Yes, and for a good reason."

"You're a-"

"Woman. The General knows. Now please, as you were saying…" It was moments like this that she found exhausting.

Jones stared for a moment longer before actually continuing. "A patrol's being planned for tonight, 0100 hours, across the river. Regiment wants P.O.Ws for interrogation." O'Carroll sighed heavily at his words. Had she really expected anything else? They were at war; they didn't really get days off. "What's the situation?" The three of them moved to the window and O'Carroll and Malarkey began telling him everything they had been told. Malarkey pulled out two cigarettes and handed one to O'Carroll. She set it in her mouth and took out her lighter to light them both.

"I take it this was already an outpost when you arrived?" Jones asked as O'Carroll stared at the lighter. It was still in pretty good shape, somehow, which was a pleasant surprise. Her father would be happy if she returned it in one piece. She slipped it back into her pocket, smiling at the thought of returning home. Everyone knew the war was getting closer and closer to coming to an end now. It was only a matter of time.

"Mmm. There were some Doggies from the 79th Infantry, but they left in a hurry." Malarkey said as O'Carroll took a drag from the cigarette.

"What's the report on enemy activity?"

"Expect some flares, a few mortars at night. Scattered 88s, snipers during the day." She said as she leaned around Don to look out the window.

"Yeah, we dodged some mortars on our way in." Jones said and O'Carroll had never seen Mal look so unimpressed. What was a couple of mortars after all?

"They also got some sort of railroad gun back there." Malarkey added to the list of German weapons. "Shells about the size of a deuce and a half. Sounds like a freight train when one comes over."

"But they haven't made any attempts to cross the river?" Jones asked.

"Nope." O'Carroll said as she moved to lean against the window.

"They have a roof over their heads, sir, just like us. I don't think anybody wants to try anything stupid at this point, right?" Malarkey said.

"Uh, right you are, Sergeant."

"So, about this patrol…" O'Carroll started, wanting to get as much information as she could on the subject.

"As of now, he wants three men from your platoon." Jones told her and she nodded.

"Okay, who?"

Jones paused for a moment, remembering what the names were, before telling her. "McClung, Heffron, and Ramirez."

"Goddamn," She muttered as she stared at her cigarette. "And they are the only ones so far?"

"Yes, uh-" He hesitated and she almost rolled her eyes.

"Sir is fine." O'Carroll said, sharing an amused look with Malarkey.

"Yes, sir."

"I suppose we should tell the men what's going on." She sighed softly and looked over at the men in question. Couldn't they just get the break they deserved?

"So, it's McClung, Heffron, and Ramirez?" Malarkey asked.

Jones nodded. "I'll tell them," O'Carroll nudged Malarkey toward the men, it would be better to come from him rather than the new guy **.** "I just need you to point-"

"Listen up!" Malarkey interrupted. "Got some bad news." He pulled off his hat and sighed before continuing. "There is a patrol set for tonight and, so far, Speirs wants McClung-"

"We know." McClung said angrily.

"Yeah, we just fucking heard." Babe grumbled as well.

"Webster here told us." Ramirez said and they all glared over at Webster.

"Guys, guys, guys." O'Carroll said as she made her way over to them. The phone rang and she gestured for Don to get it. "Take it down a notch, will ya?" They were all rightfully pissed that he had missed Bastogne, but she needed to keep some form of order. "I don't need you shitheads starting up trouble this late the war, yeah?" She chuckled, looking at the men and at least Babe nodded.

"The P.X. rations just came in." Malarkey said once he hung up the phone. "Including winter shoe pacs."

"Now?" Bridget asked as she turned to look at him.

"Beautiful." Joe scoffed.

"Yeah, finally, right?" Malarkey shook his head.

"Good of 'em, now that we're in a nice warm house." Liebgott said before taking a drink of coffee to only further his point.

"Also, we get showers." Malarkey informed them.

"Thank God." O'Carroll said loudly, a grin forming on her face. "You guys were getting pretty rank." The laughter was cut short by the sound of artillery. "Alright, let's move!"

"Clear it out!" Malarkey ordered and everyone started making their way down to the basement.

"God, move, move!"

"Incoming!"

"Stay low! Stay low!" It didn't matter much because by the time they had reached the basement, the explosions stopped. Everyone, besides Webster and Jones, began laughing. O'Carroll started to brush the dust from the ceiling out of Malarkey's hair with a laugh. "You got a little something there."

"Yeah? So do you." He laughed as well, watching as she moved so she could brush it out of her own hair. "Showers, let's go, come on." They all filed out of the building and there was another explosion. This time there was a shout of, 'Somebody's been hit!' This wiped away any trace of a smile on all of their faces. They ran toward the yell, but there was nothing they could do. Bill Kiehn was already dead. Speirs whispered into Malarkey's ear and gestured at Alley who was staring at the body. Mal moved instantly to Mo and pat his shoulder. "Hey, let's go. Let's get out of here."

"C'mon, Lieutenant." Liebgott said as he followed behind the other two. O'Carroll stayed a moment longer before leaving to head towards the showers. When she got there, she spotted Lipton whispering to Malarkey. His shoulders dropped and he let out a heavy breath and Bridget knew that it couldn't be good news.

"2nd Platoon, on me." He said and they all gathered around him. "Alright, I'm leading this patrol." O'Carroll felt a knot form in her stomach. Why couldn't they have chosen someone else? If he got hurt this late in the war, after everything they had been though, she wasn't sure what she would do. "C.O. wants Grant, Liebgott, Wynn, Jackson, Shifty, from 3rd platoon and Webster." Her concern slipped for a moment and her brow furrowed. They didn't want her on the patrol.

"They want anyone from 1st?" Cobb asked from behind the group.

"No." 

"Is there anyone they don't want from 2nd? Jesus Christ." Liebgott said as the group began to break up.

"Me, apparently." O'Carroll grunted. She didn't have long to complain, because soon there was a hand on her shoulder, to get her attention. Bridget turned to see a non-com standing behind her. "What is it?"

"Er... Lieutenant, there isn't... there isn't a private shower or..." The soldier was fidgeting nervously as though he could have been punished for the oversight.

"It's fine." Bridget said and waved him off and went to set her things down just like everyone else. "Never had a private shower before, I don't need one now." The man's mouth opened and closed a few times, but she ignored it. "That'll be all, soldier." She watched him until he walked away before beginning to undress. She pulled off her uniform top and tossed it in the pile. Next she pulled off the torn long johns she had on and lastly her tank top, leaving her with just the bandage around her chest on. A few of the men glanced her way, but soon returned to their own undressing; there wasn't much to see because of the binding, after all. Only a few replacements let their eyes linger. A few replacements... and Don.

For the first time in a long time, O'Carroll felt self-conscious. He loved her, yes, but what did he think about her appearance? Not even considering the wear and tear on her face, by now, she had a fair bit of muscle, especially for a woman, and she wasn't so sure that was considered an attractive feature. In addition to that, there was also the large amount of scarring that now covered her side. She sure as hell didn't feel beautiful and normally, that wouldn't have been an issue, but now with Don actually looking at her, it seemed to matter. There was no disgust on his face, however, only the same adoration he always looked at her with.  

"What the fuck?!" She heard and it drew her attention away from Malarkey. Webster was staring at her with his mouth gaping. It seemed it wouldn't take him a few days to find out. "You, uh, you're not... you..." He sputtered and the other 2nd platoon men began to laugh.

"Harvard is at a loss for words?" Liebgott asked with a shake of his head. "I can't fucking believe it."

"But Patrick-"

"Yeah, we know, Web." Joe shook his head and put a hand on Web's shoulder. "You're a little behind on the times."

O'Carroll chuckled softly. "Lieb, why don't you explain it to him once you both get the time, alright?" Joe nodded a little and she was thankful that she wouldn't have to explain it herself again.

"Hurry it up, will you?" Someone said and 2nd platoon resumed getting ready for the shower. O'Carroll pulled off her boots and tossed them aside before pulling off the uniform pants. Still in the boxer shorts she was wearing, she made her way to the shower and, as a creature of habit, found herself under the corner shower. The water wasn't hot, but it was warm and it felt amazing and it was exactly what she needed. From where she was standing, Bridget could see Don and, for the first time, she allowed herself to really look at him, just as he had been looking at her before. He had a few scars here and there, some of them she knew were from before they had even met. He was muscular as well, but it fit him better than it did her. Especially his arms, she decided, and she remembered the feel of them around her. That thought warmed her even more than the water had.

Too soon for her liking, they were all being herded out of the showers so they could send the next group of men through. She sighed as she grabbed the towel she was given and quickly began to dry off so that she could put on the fresh uniform. She grabbed the rest of her equipment and was ready to head back to OP 2 when Webster, who had just been talking to Jones, pulled her to a stop.

"Pa... Lieutenant... I know that you told Liebgott to explain everything, but-"

"That I did, Webster and he will." She rubbed her brow and looked over at him. "It isn't going to be a problem that I'm a woman, is it?"

"No! Of course not." Webster said quickly, though O'Carroll was still a little wary. "It's just...  surprising is all."

"Yeah, I can only imagine." She chuckled softly and pat his arm. "Listen, Webster. If the others keep giving you too much trouble, you come to me, alright?" He nodded and Bridget pointed at Liebgott. "You go on and talk to him now." She started to walk away.

"Sir?"

"Yeah?" She stopped and looked back at him.

"What's your real name?" Webster asked and she smiled a little, she could at least answer that question.

"It's Bridget. Now go." O'Carroll spotted Malarkey and jogged after him. "Hey, Don." She called and he stopped to wait for her. "How are you?"

"Better. Jones is going to see if he can switch with me." He said, pointing back in the direction the kid had gone.

This made Bridget let out a sigh of relief. "That would be great; you need a break, Mal."

"And so do you, Birdie. I'm glad they aren't sending you."

She scowled. “I shouldn't be getting a break, I'm a full-fledged officer now." O'Carroll grumbled and looked back at where the men had been. "And they're taking my entire fucking platoon anyway, why not choose me to lead the patrol?"

"Dunno. Maybe they thought Non-coms could do it easily enough and they didn't want to risk our best Louie."

"Best?" She asked him with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't try to be modest now."

"Malark-"

"Bridget, I wouldn't lie to you, okay? You know Peacock isn't very good and Foley's fine, but you've known the men longer and are better at leading them because of it. You are the best in the Company, especially since Buck is gone. Got it?" He watched her, waiting for her to argue further. When she didn't, he looked around and then back at her, a serious expression on his face. "Do you think we could talk in private?"

"Um, yeah, of course..." She said, a little confused. Malarkey led her around a building into a hidden alley. "What is it, Don?"

"I've been doing a lot of thinking. Losing Muck and Penkala... it reminded me that anything could happen, yeah?" Bridget instantly reached forward to take his hand and intertwine their fingers. He hid it well, but she knew that he was hurting. He smiled slightly as a thank you for the gesture. "The point is, I have to appreciate every moment I can with you because God knows what's going to happen and if you-"

"Don..." She said in a quiet voice, but it was enough to stop him from continuing. "You're right. We need to appreciate what we can and that means not talking about losing each other." Bridget chuckled softly. Her eyes traced slowly over his face and she felt the same warmness as before. His free hand reached up and he brushed his thumb over her lips just as he had in the Ardennes. The gesture caused Bridget's breath to catch in her throat and her heart flutter.

Don's hand moved to rest on the back of her neck, but it was Bridget who truly made the first move. She leaned in and her lips met his, hesitantly at first. It had been so long since either of them had kissed anyone that they both were both timid about it, but that didn't last long. This was something they both had wanted for a while now and that began to show in the kiss. Don pushed in to deepen the kiss and the flutter in her heart became a pounding in her chest. Bridget let go of his hand and her hand moved up his back to grip his shoulder tightly and his arms wrapped around her in return, drawing her close to his chest.

Soon, they had to break apart, both of them needing to breathe. Her lips followed his as he pulled away, longing for more, but she didn't kiss him again. Bridget instead took in the deep breath her lungs were begging for and pressed her forehead against his, enjoying the closeness. His grip on her tightened and they both stood there silently for a minute.

"Appreciate every moment, yeah?" She finally muttered and he nodded.

 

* * *

 Later in the day, once they had returned to OP 2, Speirs found Malarkey and told him that he wouldn't be going on the patrol tonight. At this news, O'Carroll finally felt as though she could relax a little. She still wasn't happy that they had taken the rest of her platoon and not her, but at least Malarkey would get the break he needed. Together, they made dinner for the men so that they would have something to eat when they got back from the briefing for the patrol. When they did return, Liebgott happily announced that he was staying behind as well. It seemed as though Webster had tried to get himself out of the patrol, but only managed to get Liebgott relieved. As the sky began to darken, O'Carroll moved to her bed and lay down in the hopes of getting some sleep. It took her a while to fall asleep and even then, she would keep waking up. Eventually, she gave up and made her way into the other room. There she found Don, already sitting in one of the chairs.

"Hey..." She said softly and he looked up quickly.

"I see you couldn't sleep either." Malarkey chuckled and kicked a chair out for her to sit in. "Liebgott went to help provide suppressing fire, so it's just me and you."

O'Carroll pulled the chair closer to him and sat down. "The bed is too soft, believe it or not."

"No, I get it."Malarkey said. "Too comfortable after sleeping on the ground or on uncomfortable army cots for so long, yeah?"

"That's exactly it.” Bridget glanced toward the window. “I'm worried about the boys too."  They would be crossing the river soon, if they hadn’t already, she guessed.

 "They know what they're doing."

"Yeah, I know. That doesn't mean I have to like this whole situation.” Her arms crossed over her chest. “These men have been through hell already, why do they have to paddle to the other side of the river?" 

“Who knows?” Don sighed softly, looking toward the window now as well. “They're going to be okay.”

“They better be o-fucking-kay.” She grumbled, but her expression softened when Malarkey looked back at her. Silence fell between them for several moments. ”I love you, Don.” She finally murmured.

"I love you too, Birdie." He leaned forward and placed a gentle hand on her cheek. She shivered a little as she remembered their kiss earlier. "You're cold."

"No, it’s not…" She trailed off as his face moved closer. Her eyes began to close as she felt his breath tickle her lips. Explosions, followed closely by gunfire, were heard and her eyes snapped open. Don's face was inches away, his eyes boring into hers. "They're at the building." She pulled away. "Dammit, I should be there."

"Bridget, they’re in good hands. You know Martin is a good leader." He watched her as she stood up and moved to the window.

O’Carroll could see the tracers from the German machine guns, but not much else. The sounds of shouting and gunfire could be heard, but there were no whistles yet. "Something's wrong."

"Bridget, they just aren't-"

"No. Something isn't right. Stay here." She left the room and hurried down the stairs to get outside. The shrill sound of the whistles joined the rest of the noises now and she ran toward the river. The boats were back across by the time she got there. "What's going on?" She yelled as waded into the freezing water to pull the boats ashore.

"It's Jackson, he's hit! It was his own grenade."

"Goddamn it!" O’Carroll cursed, she couldn't lose another man. She helped them get the injured kid out of the boat and helped to support his weight to get him into the nearest building.

"Come on! Get moving!" Someone shouted at the two German prisoners as everyone made their way into the basement.

“Get those prisoners in that corner there.” She ordered Martin and gestured with her head. He relayed the order and she helped to set Jackson down on the table. Martin then ordered McClung out to the C.P. to report and went to find a medic, leaving O'Carroll in charge of the chaotic situation. She helped the thrashing man down as best she could, but she noticed the men yelling at the prisoners. “Lieutenant!" O'Carroll called for Jones and pointed at the angry soldiers guarding the prisoners. "You keep an eye on those men.” Jones rushed forward just in time to stop Vest from shooting the prisoners. With Doc's arrival, the yelling stopped except for the cries coming from Jackson. Bridget helped Doc put Jackson on a stretcher and lightly gripped his hand as they started toward the door. "You're going to be alright, son. Don't you worry." She soothed as best she could, but he died before they even reached the door.

"Shit..." One of the men around her muttered. Bridget sat back on her heels and let out a heavy sigh. 2nd platoon had lost another man, she had lost another man. She watched Martin cover the kid with a blanket before standing up.

"Um, Webster... you stay with Martin and the prisoners, the rest of 2nd platoon, I'll be back at OP 2, when you're done, just report back there." She returned to the OP to find Malarkey and Liebgott at the door waiting for her. They moved so that she could enter the building.

"What's the status, sir?" Liebgott's question was faint in her ears.

"Bridget?"

"They got two prisoners. And um, Jackson is dead. Grenade. I think his own, from what I heard."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just... the men will be coming back soon. Maybe make them some coffee?" She asked and Malarkey nodded, instantly going to do that.  O'Carroll made her way into the other empty room and collapsed into one of the chairs. She looked at her hands, stained red once more by the blood of a fellow soldier.

 She didn't know how long she was sitting there, but the sun was shining through the window when she heard a voice."Lieutenant." She turned to see who it was.

"Captain Winters, sir." O'Carroll went to stand up.

"As you were." She leaned back in the seat. "Mind if I join you?" She shook her head and he sat in one of the seats. "I thought I should tell you, Colonel Sink wants another patrol tonight. Same lineup."

O'Carroll couldn't hold in her sigh. Who would they lose this time? She closed her eyes and nodded down at her hands. "Of course. Um, I'll tell my me-"

"That's already being taken care of."

"Then why did you want to see me, sir?"

"There's talk of promoting Lieutenant Jones now that he's had his field experience. So, it looks like you'll be losing your assistant. I just wanted to prepare you for that." O'Carroll nodded in acknowledgement and Winters stood up. "Now, why don't you wash your hands and go to your men upstairs? I have to meet with Speirs and Nixon before the briefing." He moved to leave.

"Captain?" O'Carroll stood up as well and he turned on the spot. "Can I take Jackson's place on tonight's patrol, sir?" He looked at her for a moment before shaking his head.

"There'll be no need for you to, Lieutenant." They saluted each other and then he left, O'Carroll staring at him as he went, trying to figure out what he had meant by that.

It was only when the men of 2nd platoon came back from the briefing did she understand what Winters had said. Turns out he had told the men to get a full night's sleep and report the next day that they were unable to secure any prisoners. There was not going to be a second patrol. Jones, it turned out, was promoted up and out of Easy and he wasn't the only with a promotion.  Lipton officially became a Lieutenant and Winters was bumped up to Major. And, even better, Easy Company was finally coming off the line. Maybe things were starting to look up. 

They just had to walk carefully from here on out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review! Comments and constructive criticism are always greatly appreciated.


	16. Understanding the War

In the next month, Easy Company found itself occupying Sturzelberg, Germany.  Here they had beds, hot food, and hot showers; it was the best situation they had been in for a while. This only furthered the feeling that the war was drawing to a close. Because of  this, looting was becoming a big thing and not just with the enlisted men, but with the officers as well; Captain Speirs' love for looting was especially notorious. O'Carroll had no interest in it herself, it just didn't sit well with her. She didn't blame those who did, however. It had been years since they had last seen home because of the Germans, the soldiers were understandably felt as though they were owed something.

"Bridget, it's your bet." Lipton said and she considered her cards for a moment. She had started spending more of her time with the other officers, as was fitting for her position. That included playing poker with them. Still, she tried to be with the men as often as she could, she was still a platoon leader after all.

"I'll call your four." She threw the four bills to the center of the table.

"Oh, I can't believe we're not gonna jump into Berlin." Welsh said with a loud sigh. 

 "No shit." Speirs responded, mumbling around his cigarette.

"Ike's gonna let the Russkies have it."

"Hah, Russkies." Speirs chuckled.

"Damn." O'Carroll grumbled. Easy had been hoping to jump into Berlin since they first landed in Normandy. Who else could get the job done quickly besides them? O'Carroll was just as ready to get home as everyone else was. Her mother still wanted to get her married, but now that she was Lieutenant Bridget O'Carroll, it was obvious in her letters that she was proud of Bridget. It didn't hurt that President Roosevelt had written them a letter himself proclaiming her a hero. O'Carroll wasn't sure she believed that, but she appreciated the sentiment.

"Let me tell you something, Welsh, this war is not about fighting anymore. It's about who gets what." Speirs said.

"Why don't you deal me out of the next hand?" Captain Nixon asked as he left the room without waiting for an answer, much to no one's surprise. He had gotten up to find some whiskey in the other room, but obviously hadn't. After his ill-fated jump with the 17th, Nixon's drinking problem had only gotten worse.

"What about your money?" Speirs tried to ask him but Nixon was already gone.

"Are we waiting on him again?" Welsh asked.

"Yep." Lipton said.

"He does realize it is going to be impossible to find Vat 69 here, right?" O'Carroll said as she put out the butt of her cigarette in the ashtray nearby.

"I don't think he cares, Bridget. He's gonna try anyway." Harry said with a shrug. He held up another cigarette as an offer, but she declined.

"Alright, flip 'em over." Lipton said, keeping his focus on the game. He was always good at not getting caught up in the gossip. The group of them all flipped their cards over.

"Goddamn it!" Speirs cursed loudly at his losing hand.

"Bridget, you win again." Lipton chuckled and pushed the money her way. Oddly enough, she had a superb poker face. Probably as a result as having a lot of practice in hiding something.

"Alright boys, I'm done for the night. Gonna go for a walk and then hit the sack." Bridget gathered the cash with a grin. "See you around." She stood up and they all said their goodbyes as she left the room.

Stepping outside, she saw the rain pounding hard against the cobblestones. So, maybe she wouldn't be going for a walk. She'd just have to find Don and tell him that another night would be better. Now just to find him... She hadn't gone far through the rain when suddenly she was pulled off the street and under an awning. "What th-" A finger set lightly on her lips and she grinned at the sight of a certain Sergeant.

"There you are, Birdie, I was about to go in and steal you from the officers." He chuckled and loosened his grip on her so that they both could relax. "No matter how suspicious that might have looked."

"You're going to get us both discharged if you do that." Bridget laughed as her fingers curled around the fabric of his uniform.

"At least we'd still be together." He grinned and leaned forward, his nose bumping against hers. "May I?" Don mumbled and her head moved just slightly in affirmation. Their lips met and chills ran down her spine as she let herself get lost in the kiss.At this rate, if the war didn't end soon, they might actually get caught. Bridget couldn't bring herself to care though.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Easy learned that they were ending their stay in Sturzelberg. Word spread quickly of some 300,000 Germans or so surrendering and none of them could really believe their ears. The war really was almost over. Bridget was helping 2nd get their things into a jeep when she heard a yell. She turned quickly to see Nixon throwing down his helmet. She was surprised to see just how upset he looked.

"She's taking my dog!" He yelled. It turned out his wife was divorcing him and taking everything, the dog included. As if the man needed any more things to worry about.

"Alright men, come on." She said, ushering the soldiers towards the trucks. Nixon didn't need everyone staring at him. Once everyone was piled onto the trucks, O'Carroll pulled herself onto one to sit next to Don and some other 2nd platoon boys instead of the officers. As Easy Company started out of town, someone got the men started singing.Bridget and Don loudly sang along with the Airborne's favorite song, smiles on both of their faces.

 They spent that night in some small, unknown German town before continuing their trip the following morning.Driving down the Autobahn was a sight to see with 300,000 German soldiers marching down it in defeat. O'Carroll lightly nudged Luz, who was next to her, and was about to say something when she heard a yell to her left.

"Hey you!" She looked to see Webster, on her truck, was standing up and yelling at the defeated soldiers. "Hey you! That's right, you stupid Kraut bastards! That's right! Say hello to Ford and General fucking Motors, you stupid fascist pigs! Look at you! You have horses! What were you thinking?"

Garcia, who was sitting next to him, pulled him back down."That's enough Webster. Give it a rest." He said with a roll of his eyes.

"Dragging our asses halfway around the world," Webster started off quietly. "Interrupting our lives." Webster stood again and resumed yelling. "For what? You ignorant, servile scum! What the fuck are we doing here? Huh?" This time, O'Carroll was the one who moved to sit Webster down.

"Whoa, buddy. Chill out for a second." She crouched in front of him and forced him to look away from the Germans and at her."Now, I can't tell you why we're here. I'm sure there is a reason. Some good, plausible reason, but either way you can't lose control now. We are so close to getting through this thing and I'll be damned if I let another one of you men die just because you're upset and lose focus." Webster looked away, but she hit his leg with the back of her hand to bring his attention back to her. "So, you listen to me, Webster. We are going to get through this, alright? Yelling at the Krauts doesn't help."

"Yeah," Webster mumbled softly. "How do you do it? Stay so calm, I mean." He added quickly before she could ask what he meant.

"Who ever said I was calm?" Bridget said and the two of them laughed softly. "Just... just take a few deep breaths and remind yourself why you chose to be here, alright? You probably could have gotten a lot better of a gig than jumping out of airplanes, but you chose that. Let that be part of your motivation to keep fighting." Bridget pat his knee.

"Yeah, I'll try that." He smiled at her and she moved back to her spot by Luz, her work was done.As the day wore on, Easy finally stopped in another seemingly unimportant German town for gas and to possibly spend the night. By order of Winters, Speirs had O'Carroll send some of 2nd platoon to patrol part of the woods while 1st patrolled another part and 3rd swung around them. When Bridget's men had returned, they had found nothing; a relief to say the least. It was when a member of 1st platoon's patrol came running back into town, however, that they learned that there was more to this war than they knew.

O'Carroll jumped out of the truck she had been following Major Winters in. When her feet touched the ground, a gust of stale, foul smelling air hit her face and her nose wrinkled in disgust. She slammed the door shut and walked forward. In front of her, there was a large barbed wire fence. Behind it stood a mass of people holding on to the wires. They were all wearing black and white prisoner uniforms and they all had gold stars on their chests. O'Carroll helped open the first gate and then backed away to watch as Perko and Pat cut the lock and opened the second one on Winters' orders. Some of the men standing behind the gate stumbled back as it was pushed open. Once it was open, they could clearly see more people heading toward the gate. A lot more. Bridget held back, not sure she wanted to get a closer look at what lay beyond the gate. Eventually, however, her body began moving forward, bit by bit. As she walked by the group of prisoners that had been standing by the gate, they lightly grabbed her uniform as if to make sure she was really there, to make sure that she wasn't a dream. With each step, the smell got only worse to the point that she raised her arm to cover her nose with her sleeve. That was when she looked at the wreckage of the building closest to her. It was still smoking from the fire that had obviously destroyed it. She didn't get a chance to observe it further, however, as a pair of hands grabbed her face and weakly turned her to face the owner.

It was one of the prisoners. He was thin, unnaturally so, and looked unhealthy beyond belief. Without warning, he brought his face to hers and kissed both of her cheeks, muttering in German all the while. He wrapped his arms around her neck and began sobbing against her shoulder. She did the only thing she could think of and tried to comfort him. Speaking reassuring words he probably couldn't understand. O'Carroll had to hold back her own tears as he let go and stumbled away. She stood stunned for a moment before she went to where Winters, Nixon, and Speirs were having Liebgott translate one of the prisoners.

"They burned some of the huts first... with the prisoners still in them, sir... Alive." Liebgott translated and O'Carroll took a sharp intake of breath. The stench made sense now.

"Jesus Christ." Nixon muttered.

"Some of the prisoners tried to stop them... Some of them were killed..." The prisoner kept stuttering his story and Liebgott continued to translate for him "They didn't have enough ammo for all of the prisoners so... they killed as many as they could... before they left the camp... They locked the gates behind them and headed South."

"Someone in town must have told them we were coming." Nixon said.

"Yeah, I think so." Lieb agreed.

"Will you ask him... ask him what kind of camp this is? Um, what, er... why are they here?" Winters asked of Liebgott.

Liebgott repeated the question in German. "He says it's a work camp for, er unerwunscht? I'm not sure what the word means, sir. Er, unwanted, disliked maybe?" He shook his head slightly.

"Criminals?" Nixon offered.

"I don't think criminals, sir." Liebgott asked the man in German. The prisoner shook his head.

"Nein, Nein."

"No... Doctors, musicians... tailors, clerks, farmers, intellectuals, I mean, normal people." Lieb said with a shrug.

"Juden, Juden, Juden." The man said and there was a moment before Liebgott translated.

"They're Jews." He said in a soft voice. O'Carroll's gut twisted as she felt pity for the man, Liebgott was a Jew. "Poles and Gypsies." He continued and then exchanged some more words with the man who then walked off crying.

"Liebgott?" Nixon asked, waiting to hear what had just happened.

"The woman's camp is at the next railroad stop." Liebgott said and Bridget's hand went up to cover her mouth.

"Jesus." Was the only word she was able to utter. As if this wasn't bad enough, there was a whole other camp like this filled with women. Still horror-struck, she silently strayed over to where Malarkey was standing over some bodies near one of the burnt huts.

"Hey, Babe, come here." Heffron joined the two of them. "Look at their arms." Don pointed with his gun to numbers she hadn't noticed earlier etched into their skin.

"Like cattle." Babe responded.

"Goddamn." Don said in barely a whisper. Babe walked away and Don started to follow him until he noticed she was still standing there, staring at the bodies. He came back to her just as she stifled a sob with her fist. He reached out to lightly touch her arm, the only sign of concern he was allowed to show. "Bridget..."

"It's because they are Jews." She murmured faintly. "That's why they are here. That's why these men are dead."She took a shaky breath and her voice raised a little."I don't understand how anyone could, could...  _hate_  a group of people so much that they, they do this. The- They kill them, burn them alive just because they're different. I mean..." She couldn't continue the thought. Her mouth was dry and her voice had started cracking, continuing would mean breaking down and she couldn't do that.

"Listen up!" Speirs called out, getting everyone's attention. "1st and 2nd platoon, you need to head back to town to get whatever food you possibly can and bring it back here, quickly!" O'Carroll was glad for the excuse to get away from the camp for a short while. When they returned, the chaos that followed was ridiculous. The prisoners swarmed to the trucks to try and get food and it was her job to try and keep some form of order. It wasn't working out well. That was when she heard a whisper in her ear.

"Hey, Bridget?" Christenson was leaning in close to her.

"Yeah, Pat?"

"You're not going to like this, but orders are we have to lock these men back up." He was right, she didn't like this at all.

"What? Why the hell do we need to do that?" She asked just as Liebgott began speaking to the prisoners in German.

"Eating too much will kill them. Doctor says they need to be in a place where they can keep an eye on them. Regulate their health." Pat informed her, and as much as she hated it, it was necessary. The prisoners began to moan in protest and it was then that she realized that Liebgott was assigned the job of telling the prisoners this. His voice quavered as he spoke the words and Bridget felt another wave of pity for him. Knowing what she had to do, she hustled over to the truck and jumped on. By this point, Liebgott had sat down and was unable to hold back his tears and who could blame him? She placed a hand on his arm, not entirely sure of what to say. What words could possibly be enough to make this better?

* * *

 

That night, Bridget sat up on her bed, unable to sleep after the horrors they had seen that day. She tried to not think about it, wanting to just forget what she had seen, but that was easier said than done. How could she not think about it? How could she not see the starving men? Smell the burning flesh? She felt hot tears slipping down her cheeks and she didn't try to hold them back, not this time. She hit her head back against the headboard. Once. Twice. A third time. She kept doing it, harder and harder hoping for a pain that could distract her from the aching in her chest. When she stopped, the back of her head felt raw, but the ache was still there resting heavily on her chest.

"Goddamn it." She muttered and pressed up from the bed to begin pacing around the room. She had seen the horrors of war for almost a year now. The awful conditions, the blood, the pain. She had seen friends torn apart and killed. And with all of that.... it had become difficult to understand _why_ they were fighting a war. It had been easy to lose purpose. That was until today. Stepping into that camp, learning what the Germans had been doing... That purpose came clearly into focus once again. She understood precisely why she was here. It was more than just a sense of duty toward the country now. It was about right and wrong, good and evil.

Bridget stopped her pacing in front of the dresser in her room.  Sitting on top were boxes she hadn't even touched yet, but she opened one now. Her finger slowly ran over the watch resting inside. Bridget picked it up and examined it. She was in the house of a well off family and it was a nice watch that would, undoubtedly, be worth a pretty penny. Without a second thought, she slipped it into her pocket and then began exploring the rest of the chamber for things of value. It was a small price for the Krauts to pay after what she had seen.

General Taylor ordered that every "able-bodied" German of a certain age from town was to help clean up and take care of the bodies. that next day, we were not only told that we were heading to Thalem, Germany, but also that they had found more of these... "camps" throughout Europe. Some bigger and far worse, with gas chambers to kill... It was only later, after the war, that the number 11 million came out. 11 million innocent people murdered by the Germans. 6 million of them were Jewish and most of them were killed in these camps. Hitler had called it his "Final Solution" to the "Jewish Question".On April 11th, when Bridget heard he had killed himself, she could only think that they had a special place in hell for people like him.

But of course, the war still wasn't over and their road was now taking them to Berchtesgaden.

 


	17. Victory in Europe

It was early May when Easy Company entered Bavaria and for now, they were stuck on the road with nowhere they could go. The thing that was stopping them from continuing straight to Berchetesgaden? Roadblocks. Some Krauts had the idea of holding off an attack by blowing up some of the mountain onto the road and it was working, for now, but Easy was damned determined to get up the mountain and so it was only a matter of time before they did. Bridget watched impatiently as two men tried to bazooka their way through the giant boulders, but it didn't even make a dent.

"Hey, Webster." She stood up and walked over to where he was sitting, writing in his journal.

"Yes, Lieutenant?" He asked without looking up. Apparently too caught up in what he was writing.

"Put your diary down for a moment and let's go try to help these guys out." She gestured to the men with the bazooka.

"It's a journal." Webster grumbled as he looked over at the men trying to clear a path. "How are we-" He stopped mid question as she pulled out a grenade. A smile broke on his face. "Ah. That could work." He put his book away and used the rail he was sitting against to pull himself to his feet. "Sounds like fun."

"Hey, I have an idea." O'Carroll said as the two of them approached Grant and Christenson. The two men turned to look at her, doubt on their faces. They've tried just about all they could think of and nothing was working.

"Lieutenant?" Grant asked, lowering his weapon for the moment.

"So, what we are going to do is to put a pile of grenades on those rocks over there. You shoot them and we'll see if that helps any." She grinned and pat his shoulder. "Sound like a good plan to you, Sergeant?"

"Yes, sir." Grant responded, a similar grin on his face. Even if it didn't work, it would make for a nice explosion at least.

"Okay, Web," O'Carroll said as she started toward the rockslide. "How many grenades do you have?"

"Five, I think." He said, checking for said explosives and the two of them made their way to the rockslide.

"That's about how many I have. That should be enough to cause some damage, I'd think." Upon reaching the rocks, Webster and O'Carroll piled the grenades together as carefully as possible. It might not be enough to clear the rocks, but it sure as hell would tear them to pieces if something happened and that was something they both wished to avoid. When the last one was placed, the two of them ran back to where Grant and Christenson were, laughing as they did. Grant fired the bazooka once more, aiming at the pile of grenades. This time, the explosion was bigger, but still not big enough. "Damn." Bridget cursed and set her hands on her hips. They'd have to find another way up the mountain it seemed.

"It was worth a shot though, Bridge, I'll give you that." Grant said as he lowered the bazooka once again. His head tilted as he examined their handiwork. "If we could do that ten more times..."

"Nice try, Lieutenant." She heard from behind them and the four of them turned to see Speirs heading their way.

"Thank you, Captain Speirs, sir." Bridget grinned proudly.

"Get your men ready. We're flanking around so we can beat the French up to the Eagle's Nest." He ordered and it brought a smirk to O'Carroll's face.

 "I like the sound of that, sir."

"Knew you would. Now get moving." She didn't need to be told again and quickly began shouting orders for 2nd platoon. When they did finally roll into Berchtesgaden, it was like a ghost town. Apparently, it was the one town where you had to be a true Nazi to live in and so no one could plead innocence if they were caught there. 2nd platoon chose a nice building to claim for their own, but there was still something to do before they fully settled in.

On the way up to the Nest itself, some of the men stayed in trucks, but Bridget was one of the few who ran up the mountain to get to Hitler's birthday gift. She felt like she was at Toccoa again and it was actually something that made her happy. Never would she have thought she would miss Toccoa. Admittedly, she found herself out of breath quicker than she would have back on Currahee; she hadn't had the chance to be doing a lot of running up mountains for the past year and that was taking its toll on her, but the company she was running with helped. She ran next to Don, both of them laughing their way up the hill despite the exertion.

Behind them, someone yelled "Hi-Ho, Silver," bringing back even more vivid memories of their first C.O. Bridget stopped to cheer down to the people in the trucks on the road below and soon Don's arms wrapped around her from behind to pick her up and carry her forward. She let out a loud peal of laughter as he spun with her. She should have been worried about people seeing it, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Soon, it didn't matter anyway because More grabbed the both of them, cheering all the while, and thankfully making her and Don less obvious. Either way, she was not acting as a Lieutenant should, and she knew it, but nobody seemed to mind, not today at least.

Eventually, the men made it to the elevator and a group of them went up to check out the Eagle's Nest. Once the main doors were opened, they entered the building cautiously, not wanting to take any chances. It turned out to be an unnecessary precaution because the only person to be found in the building was the dead body of some Kraut.  

And of course, there was also what More had found. Two of Hitler's personal photo albums. O'Carroll let out a low whistle when she leaned over his shoulder. "Damn, now that is a find, More."

"Want one?" He offered.

"Really?" She asked before biting her lip. It sure was a tempting offer.

"Yeah, sure. Besides, this makes sure you don't tell a C.O. that I kept one." He grinned and she let out a laugh, finally shaking her head.

"No, no. You keep them both. I won't tell anyone. Besides, I'd probably just as soon set it on fire as keep it."

"Suit yourself." More said with a shrug. He looked around, making sure no one else was watching before slipping the two books into his bag.

O'Carroll had left the Eagle's Nest and was with 2nd platoon in the house they had claimed when she heard the news about the surrender. The men couldn't even cheer at first, too stunned by the news. After almost a year of being in Europe, the war was over. Well, for now, but with this news and the news that they were heading out to Austria come morning, the war in the Pacific was the last thing on their minds.

* * *

 

In Austria, O'Carroll found herself not only set up in a nice hotel overlooking a gorgeous lake, but she even had her own room. It wasn't that she didn't care about the men, but she had greatly missed having even just an inkling of privacy and now that wasn't an issue. The bliss didn't last long though.

With everything they had been through, O'Carroll had almost forgotten about the war in the Pacific. And that was a war that wasn't over, not yet. As she watched the footage of what the soldiers were experiencing there, she could only imagine it was a thousand times worse than what they were willing to show. It made her sick to her stomach. She was going, however, because she had no choice. At this point, she wasn't sure if she would have stayed if she had the points to go home, but she'd never have the chance to know either way.

On the anniversary of D-Day, the army set up a lottery so that one soldier would get to go home. Shifty "won" the rigged pick because even though plenty of them didn't have enough points, they all felt as if he had done enough and deserved it. So, his was the only name in the helmet. Their excitement for Shifty was quickly stomped out, however, when they were told that there was no doubt they were going to be going to the Pacific and training would start the next day.

With that knowledge, O'Carroll decided to spend her evening sitting on the balcony in her room, relaxing and staring at the lake as the sun began to set below the surrounding mountains. A bottle of whiskey sat on the table next to her as she tried to think about anything other than what tomorrow was going to bring. There was a knock on the door and it was a welcome release from her thoughts. "Come on in." She called and the door opened revealing Don. She smiled slightly, a welcome release indeed.

"Hey, Birdie." Malarkey said as he closed the door before making his way to her.

"Hey, Mal." She picked up the bottle and held it up. "Want a glass?"

"How many?" Don asked her instead of answering her question. That question was enough to make her pour them both glasses. Since they had gotten to Austria, he had been trying to find out how many points she had, but she had been avoiding giving him an answer. She handed him the glass, but he didn't drink it, not yet. "Because if you can go home, please promise me you will. I know you feel like it's your duty, but... but don't you think you've done enough?"

Bridget let out a heavy sigh and downed her drink. She set the empty glass on the table and stood up, moving to lean against the railing. "84, Don, I have 84 points. Two purple hearts and a silver star, that's 15 right there.Just under three years in total in service which is 33 points plus almost two years in service overseas that's 21 points... Three campaigns that's 15...So, if I had just signed up one month sooner I would have had that last point, but I didn't. I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

"Goddamn..." He muttered. Malarkey downed his drink now before leaning on the railing next to her. "I had hoped that maybe they'd let you go, given your situation."

"I told them to treat me like any other soldier. I can't go looking for special treatment now." She pushed away from the balcony and spared one last glance at the lake before turning to go inside. "I've done pretty good so far, I think I can survive another two years."

"Pretty good?" Don chuckled as he followed her into the room. "Is that what you call getting a waist full of shrapnel?" He set a hand on said waist, stopping her from walking any further.

"It could have been worse." She said before turning around, keeping his hand on her waist. Bridget untucked her uniform top and tank top before taking his hand and slowly slipping it up so his fingers could run across the scars that disfigured her side. She watched his reaction closely; his sharp intake of breath followed by his lip running over his lips. "See? It's not so bad..." Don leaned in, his breath brushing across her neck causing the knots in her stomach to tighten. It was soon followed by his lips pressing lightly against her neck with a tenderness she didn't know still existed in this world. Suddenly, his other hand was cupping the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her short hair. He pulled her in for a deep kiss, something about it different from the others. His hand that was on her waist moved to caress the small of her back, holding her flush against him. He broke from her lips and softly kissed her neck once again. As her lips pressed against his neck in return, her fingers moved to begin unbuttoning his uniform.

"Bridget?" He spoke against her neck, one of his hands moving to still hers.

"Mmm?" Bridget responded without pulling away from him.

"Is this what you want? I mean... I don't want to ... make you think you have to..." Malarkey muttered as his hand moved further up her back.

"It is, Don." Bridget said before kissing him again. She moved her hand out from under his so that she could resume her work. "Is it what you want?"

"This is something I've wanted for a while now, to be honest." He murmured and pulled back enough so that he could start clumsily unbuttoning her shirt as well. Now that they both had agreed, it was as though the dam had been broken and neither of them could contain their eagerness. Don kissed her heatedly as she worked his shirt off. Her hands ran slowly over his arms before pulling off his tank top as well. He slowly pushed her back to the bed, pulling off her shirt as he did. He laughed softly as he saw the bandage still wrapped around her chest. His fingers ran down her collarbone to the cloth, the touch made shivers run down her spine. "You know you don't really have to wear the binding anymore, right?" His hand moved to find the clip so he could start unwrapping it.

"I'm just trying to make it difficult for you."Bridgetlaughed as she sat on the bed and raised her arms to make his job a little easier.

"Of course you are." Malarkey chuckled softly. "And yet I still love you, Bridget O'Carroll. With all my heart."When he threw the bandage aside, his eyes traced over her, taking it all in.

Bridget pulled him onto the bed, but stopped him right before their lips met. "I love you too, Donald Malarkey." She breathed out before giving him the kiss they both so desired.

 

* * *

 

"I've got to get going." O'Carroll groaned as she hid her face against Malarkey's arm. It was past midnight now and that meant she had a job to do no matter how much she'd rather be staying right where she was.

"No, no you don't." He laughed and held her tighter. "Let's just stay here. No one will notice." While he was joking, they were both severely tempted by the idea.

"I've got to, Don." Bridget laughed and he groaned loudly as she untangled herself from his arms and the sheets. She reached over to grab the new bottle of whiskey they had opened and poured herself a glass, she was going to need it because of the job she had soon. "I've got to go drive out with that German officer and relieve them of crossroads duty."  She took a sip before offering the glass to him and he took a quick drink.

"And why can't the man drive himself?"

"Because it is supposed to be a show of cooperation." Bridge scoffed and took the glass back from him. "I don't think I'll be back tonight though, so you should probably get back to your bunk, just to be safe."

"And when do you think we would be able to do this again?" He asked, holding her hand as she moved to slip out of the bed. Bridget set the drink down and began searching for her clothes before answering.

"Hopefully, soon. With training starting up again though, it's hard to know." She leaned down to kiss him. When she pulled away, she stretched out kinks in her muscles before slowly beginning to dress, Malarkey watching her all the while. She easily caught his stare. "Enjoying the view?" She asked.

"Mmhmm." Mal grinned lazily and sat up. "I don't think anyone would blame me. You're beautiful."

"Eyes front, soldier." Her face had flushed at his words. She still wasn't sure she believed it. Not now.

"Yes, sir." Don laughed and finally looked away as he moved to grab his own clothes to start pulling them on. "Hey, Birdie." She finished pulling on her shirt and turned to look at him.

"Yeah?" She watched as he pulled his pants on before walking over to her and pulling her back into his arms. "What is it, Mal?"

"I was just thinking, when we get home... what would you say about spending the rest of your life with me?" The question hung in the air for a moment as Bridget tried to comprehend what he was saying. "I know this isn't as fancy and well thought out as you deserve, but I just know it's what I want and I'm hoping you want it too."  He bit his lip, nervous about how long her silence was lasting.

"It is." She finally said, her voice cracking slightly before she let out a happy laugh. "Don, yes that is what I want." Don laughed as well as he pulled her in for a tight hug.

"Oh thank God. I'm really glad to hear you say that." He kissed her neck a few times while lifting her off the ground a little. When he put her down, he reached up to frame her face in his hands. "When we get back to Oregon, we'll figure it out properly, yeah? We can live wherever, do whatever, just so long as I'm with you." She chuckled and set a hand on one of his.

"You're painting a fantastic picture, Mal." She kissed him one last time before pulling back. "I really have to go now, though. I can't be late." O'Carroll pulled on the rest of her uniform. She stood in front of the mirror to make sure she was presentable before heading to the door. When she reached it, Bridget stopped and turned to look at him. Her finger went to her brow and she pointed at him. He quickly mimicked the motion before she turned and walked out the door.

 

* * *

 

"Lieutenant O'Carroll, hello." Bridget introduced herself and held out her hand toward him. "My platoon is the one taking over the crossroads duty for you. I'm here to drive you on out there so we can check it out. Sergeant Grant in my platoon will be meeting us there." The German soldier took her hand and shook it. How strange. Just months ago they would have been shooting each other and now here they were shaking hands. How times had changed.

"Hello, Lieutenant." He greeted curtly before climbing into the passenger seat. O'Carroll got behind the wheel of the car and started it. They were nearing the crossroads when O'Carroll had to slam on the brakes at the sight of a man standing in the middle of the road. "Goddamn it!" She cursed loudly and put the car into park. "Soldier, what's going on?" She called out, but there was no immediate response.

"Fucking Krauts." She heard as the man in the road squinted at the passenger in her car.

"Shit," Bridget muttered softly and climbed out of the car. She was about to suggest the other man to stay in the car, but he was already getting out. "Trooper, is there a problem?" She asked as the two of them rounded in front of the car.

"No," His voice was distant and it was then she realized that the man was incredibly intoxicated. "I just need some gas. Think you could give me some?"

"That is-"

"I wasn't asking you, Kraut." The soldier interrupted and raised his gun at the man.

"Whoa, whoa whoa!" Bridget said and she held her hands up, taking a small step forward. "Private, the war is over, you don't need to be pointing that gun at anyone."

"I just need some gas." He slurred, not moving his gun away from the target.

"Let's just talk this through, alright? What's your name, Private?" Her question went unnoticed as his eyes glazed over a little, his mind obviously elsewhere. She sidestepped a little, hoping to put a barrier between the man and his target.

"Tell this fucking Kraut to give me what I want." He finally said, his focus on them returning.

"Son, you don-"

"Shut up!" He yelled and jabbed his gun in their direction. That was when she saw the familiar look in his eyes. A cold hard stare and a hatred that burned brighter than a thousand suns. _I'm gonna kill every last one of those Kraut bastards._ The words rung loudly in her head as clear as they had a year ago. This wasn't just about gas anymore. The soldier was angry and, gas or not, his finger was on the trigger ready to squeeze.

"Private, don't!" Bridget yelled and jumped forward, fully intending to wrestle the gun out of the young man's hands. The sound of a gunshot filled the air and O'Carroll froze in shock. He moved the gun from her grasp and fired it at the German soldier behind her before he had a chance to respond. She could hear the German drop to the ground behind her, but her mind was now on the pain in her gut. She looked down at the blood now staining her hands and sank to her knees. God damn it, not again. Not now after everything she had been through. She finally reached for her sidearm to use against the man.

"Fucking Kraut lover." The man spat at her and then another shot rang out in the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this story's got a few chapters left, but it is drawing to a close and so any comments or reviews are greatly appreciated.


	18. Blood Upon the Risers

"Don." The woman chided with a soft laugh. The man only grinned in response and pulled her in closer to him. "Don, come on. We have a ship to catch. The war is over and we can finally go home, but not if we don't get our asses moving."

"You're right, the war is over and we can enjoy ourselves now. Home can wait a few more days." The man brushed his thumb against her cheek.

"I think you just don't want to meet my mother." Bridget laughed and sat up a little. "You're afraid of her!"

"What!? No! Of course not." The sergeant scoffed, but it only made her laugh harder. "I'm not I swear!"

"After everything we've been through, you're afraid of finally meeting my mother."

"Can you blame me?! If she's as much like you as you claim..." He began tickling the woman, resulting in uncharacteristic squeals.

"Stop it!" She cried out in laughter and tried to still his hands. "I hate when you do that!" Bridget managed to trap his hands and stop him. As soon as she had his hands pinned, he stopped fighting.

"You do not." He laughed and leaned in to press his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. "You love everything I do, even though it pains you to admit it."

"I do love everything you do, for God knows what reason." She teased before pulling away from him. "Now come on, you scaredy cat. We are not missing that boat."

"Just one more kiss, please?" He pulled her back in, his lip dropping into a pout as he gave her his best pleading expression. Bridget had no choice but to give in.

"One more." She said and moved back so that her lips hovered over his. "I love you." Bridget murmured before her lips met his once again.

There was a loud pounding on the door that pulled the soldier laying in the bed out of his dream. His response was to groan and use the pillow to cover his ears, hoping to block out the sound. He didn't even get a chance to fall back asleep, however, because in the next moment, the room filling with light. The soldier sat up slowly, squinting at the light. "What?" He grunted. "What is it?"

"Mal, it's Bridget. She was shot." The newcomer said. It took a moment for the words to make sense, but Malarkey felt his heart drop in his chest when they finally sunk in. Bridget... his Bridget had been shot...

"W-what?" He forced the sheets aside and jumped to his feet. "Is she okay? What the hell happened?"

"I don't know, I don't know. It was some drunk trooper." The other man shrugged, watching Malarkey as he began to get ready to move out. "I think she's in bad condition. They were trying to find a doctor for her and Grant though. At least that's what I heard."

"Goddamn, Grant too?" Mal muttered as pulled on his boots. If he stopped for a moment to think about what might happen... The sound of Talbert yelling orders out in the hall drifted into the room and Malarkey pushed past the other soldier to hear what was going on.

"Bull, Malark," Talbert pointed them out and Malarkey began to follow without worrying about getting the rest of his uniform on. "You each take a squad and one of these witnesses on a house to house search."

"Can we shoot this bastard on sight?" Malarkey asked, really hoping the answer was yes. 

"Try and take him alive." Talbert said and Malarkey let out an angry breath. Sure, he'd try, but he wouldn't make any promises.

"Where are they now?" Bull asked and Mal began to gather a squad from men from second platoon. He grabbed Webster first and made him follow him, they would probably need a translator. As he started toward the exit with his squad and their witness, he heard Talbert's response.   

"Um, they went to a Kraut hospital to see if they could drum up any good doctors." Good, there was still a chance that Bridget was going to be okay. Bad condition or no, Bridget was a fighter and if she had a doctor to help, that's all she needed. 

"Let's go, men. Let's find this bastard!" Mal shouted and they headed out into the night to begin their search.

 

* * *

 

The night was starting to wear on the men. Everyone wanted to find the drunk trooper, but after over a dozen houses and still no sign of him, the men in Don's squad were beginning to lose hope. They were just turned away from another house when they heard shouting down the street. "We got him!" Someone yelled, running towards Malarkey and his squad. "We found him holed up in some empty Kraut house. He's back at the CP."

"You sure it's him?" Malarkey asked as hurried down the street to meet Luz, his squad trailing behind him.

"Pretty damn." Luz said in between trying to catch his breath. "They've got him tied up to a chair there. Roughing him up a bit..." Luz faded out and held up his hand showing off his red knuckles. "I got my hit in." He nodded at Malarkey. "I figured you'd want to do the same."

"I want to do a whole lot more than that." Malarkey grumbled as the men began following Luz back to the CP. "Just the one hit?"

"Someone had to come get you guys." Luz managed a shrug as they picked up the pace a little.

"He should be glad I didn't find him first." Don's grip on the strap of his rifle tightened, he was still tempted to use it on the man the moment he saw him. Luz only thinned his lips; he had nothing to say in response to that. George was just as grief-stricken while simultaneously livid with the news of Bridget being shot. The woman had been his best friend since the first time she had responded to one of his sarcastic comments with one of her own. He understood all too well the urge to shoot the man who had shot her. He wouldn't argue against anything Malarkey might do.

The silence didn't have to last long, because soon they were entering the building and Luz was leading them toward the room the man was tied up in. "He's in there." Luz pointed Don to the door. "You go on in, I'm going to stay out here and play some cards." He lightly pat Malarkey's shoulder before moving to sit at the table where Talbert was waiting for him.

"You think it's a good idea to send him in there?" Tab asked as he began shuffling the cards, it was obvious he wasn't too happy with what was going on in the other room.

"Maybe not. He needs it though." Luz muttered softly.

"I think she's in better condition than Grant is, though. She was already being taking to a hospital. Do you really think she's going to be happy that we let him do this when she wakes up? You yourself only got one punch in..." Tab pulled on his lip and glanced to the door.

"I don't know how she's gonna feel, but I do know that if it was him who got shot... she'd do the same." George tapped his arm to make the man turn back to him. "Come on, just deal the cards."

As Don walked into the room, the other men parted so he could see the man tied to a chair, blood already dripping from his brow. Malarkey stopped dead in his tracks as he looked at him. To think... Bridget was in the hospital because of the drunk son of a bitch in front of him. His jaw twitched as a rage like nothing he had ever felt before filled his entire being.

"Mal..." He vaguely heard someone mutter, but he ignored them, his interest only on the piece of shit in front of him. "Let me take that." The voice said again and Malarkey permitted the other soldier to take his rifle from him. Maybe that was for the best anyway. The others in the group stared at Don, waiting to see how he reacted. Maybe they weren't aware just how serious it was between Malarkey and O'Carroll, but everyone knew that there was something there. The two had been practically inseparable for the past three years. There had been a fight every now and then, but they always came out stronger than before. And since everything that happened in Bastogne... since Don watched Toye and Guarnere taken away, watching Buck being sent off the line, Skip and Penkala... No one would blame him for anything he did to the man.

"You son of a bitch." He finally said, his voice deathly quiet. He took a small step forward, fists clenching and unclenching at his side. "You Goddamned son of a bitch!" Mal yelled now. _He finally closed the distance between them_  and not even a moment later, his fist connected with the side of the man's face. Don watched as the man spat up some blood, feeling a little satisfaction at that, but it wasn't enough. "Are you fucking happy, you bastard? Fucking satisfied about what you did?" He growled before hitting the man again, harder this time.

"I don't know what you're talking about." The man managed and it only served to make Don angrier. Mal grabbed the man by his hair and forced him to look up.

"That Lieutenant you shot... you made a big mistake." Without letting go of his hair so the man couldn't move, Malarkey began hitting the man again and again, anything to numb the anger and dread he felt.Soon, the soldier's entire face was covered in blood and that was when the rest of the group decided that Malarkey had done enough.

"Jesus Christ, Mal!" Martin yelled and finally grabbed his arm before he could throw another punch. "C'mon, Don, that's enough." Malarkey fought against his hold so Ramirez grabbed him as well and helped Martin drag him back.

"He shot Bridget! The fucking piece of shit-"

"Yeah, but you're going to kill him!" They finally managed to get him to the back of the group and pushed him away. They stood, there waiting just in case he tried to get at the man again.

"It's no less than he deserves." Malarkey spat, but didn't lunge at the man again. Instead, Malarkey leaned back against the wall and rubbed his face with his hands.  Bridget would hate to see him like this. As deserving as the man was, she wouldn't have wanted him to do this. It was that thought that calmed him down. And just in time too.

"Where is he?!" They heard a yell from the other room; Speirs had returned. As he entered the room, the men surrounding the tied up soldier all took a step back, revealing the bloody man to the their C.O. "This him?" Speirs asked.

"That's him." Bull confirmed. "Replacement. I Company."

"Where's the weapon?" Speirs asked the soldier, his contempt for the man obvious.

"What weapon?" The replacement somehow managed through the mouthful of his own blood. Speirs instantly hit him with the butt of his sidearm and Malarkey pushed away from the wall to get a better view of what was happening.

"When you talk to an officer, you say 'sir.'" Speirs said, a dangerous edge in his voice. When the man didn't say anything, Speirs cocked his weapon and pointed it at him. Everyone took another step back, not one doubt in anyone's mind that he would do it. Don looked away and closed his eyes, waiting to hear the shot ring out. Now that his initial rage had slipped away, he knew he wasn't the kind of man to relish in the death of another. He had forgotten that here and there during the war, but he couldn't let it be that way forever. He wouldn't stop Speirs from taking the shot, however. None of them would.

But it never came.

Speirs lowered his weapon and wiped the blood off of his hand on the trooper's uniform.  He took the wedge off of his head. "No. That's not what they would want." He said so quietly the rest of the men almost didn't hear him and with that, he started out of the room. "Have the MPs take care of this piece of shit."

"Grant's dead?" Talbert asked, stopping Speirs in his tracks.

"No." Speirs called back and put away his weapon. "Kraut surgeon says he's gonna make it." He was about to leave again when Malarkey pushed his way through the crowd.

"And Bridget? What'd the doctor say about her?" He asked.

Speirs turned now to look at Malarkey. For once, his face was not unreadable. "Sergeant, you've been misinformed..." He looked down at the ground to hide his expression. "O'Carroll never made it to the doctor; she was dead before anyone got there. I'm sorry." He gave the slightest nod before leaving the room. The rest of the men stood there silently, trying to understand the weight of what Speirs had just said.

"Holy shit..." Luz muttered, breaking the silence, as he dropped back into his chair. His hand covered his face and all of the men reacted in a similar manner, but they managed to move to get the man out of the room to take him to the MPs. Don stood there all the while, his limbs trembling as he felt his heart breaking in his chest. His legs went weak and he dropped down to a crouch so as to not fall down. There was a pain coursing through him unlike anything he had ever felt before. It was the deep, raw pain one felt as if a part of who they were was ripped away from them.


	19. Epilogue

The months following Bridget O'Carroll's death passed in a haze for Don. Winters had him sent to Paris so that he wouldn't have to go to the Pacific, wouldn't have to see anymore death after losing all of his closest friends one way or another to the war. While Malarkey appreciated that, the peace of Paris only made her death hit harder. There was nothing to keep his mind off of her. To only make it worse, while in Paris, his mother had written him a letter asking if the stories were true about the woman serving in the 101st. Apparently, back in the States, word had spread about the woman who had been parading as a man. She was a hero that was being celebrated across the nation for what she had done. In response to this, the Army held a large funeral and memorial as they buried her in Arlington National Cemetery. This memorial included a large parade as well as giving her a promotion to Captain.  The posthumous promotion had been some higher-ups idea of further honoring the woman for her deeds. Malarkey had no doubt in his mind that she would have hated it.

Either way, he was glad he missed the services for a multitude of reasons. For one thing, it seemed like an over the top event that she wouldn't have been happy with. She wouldn't want to be remembered or treated any differently than her fellow fallen soldiers just because of her unique situation. Another, more obvious, reason was he wasn't sure he would have been able to handle it. It was hard enough knowing she was dead, but to see her body lowered in the ground would have only made it more real. At least Paris removed him from that.

When it was announced that the Japanese had surrendered,  Don found it difficult to be as elated as everyone else seemed to be. He was relieved, there was no doubt about that, but he was also reminded of the days of peace he wouldn't get to spend with the woman he loved. There was one good thing about it all, though, and that was that he was finally going to be able to go home. It wasn't long before he was on a ship back to the States and in November of 1945, Malarkey officially parted ways from the army in New Jersey. From there he made his way back toward Oregon. He stopped briefly to see is family in Astoria to let his family know he was alright, but early the next morning he was on his way to Eugene.

Don wasn't sure what he would say to them, but he knew he had to visit her family, at least once. He stood at the door, hesitating before finally rapping his knuckles against the wood. Malarkey straightened his tie and the rest of his uniform.  In the next moment, a man who looked to be a few years older than Don answered the door. He frowned deeply at the sight of the uniform and Don noticed his grip tighten on the door.

"Yes?" The man asked and Malarkey almost lost his ability to speak. He could see the similarities he shared with Bridget in the man's features.

"Are you... are you Patrick O'Carroll?" Don asked, clearing his throat. It was amazing how much even saying her fake name hurt to say.

"Yes." The frown on the man's face slipped away into confusion. "Can I ask who y-"

"Donald?" A soft voice came from behind the man and Patrick turned to see his mother standing there. "You're Donald, aren't you?"

"Yes, ma'am." Malarkey said softly. Her hand went to cover her mouth as she let out a soft gasp. "Donald Malarkey."

"Please come in." She finally moved forward, gently pushing her son aside to pull the man into the house. "She told us so much about you in her letters."

He spent the entire day with the O'Carroll family. Her mother was just as he had imagined she would be. A strong, stubborn woman; just like her daughter. Even though her sadness shone through, she never broke down. Malarkey wasn't sure how much she had told them in her letters about his relationship with their daughter, but he thought it was only right they should know. When he told them they had been planning on marrying when the war was over it was her father who burst into tears.  Malarkey barely managed to remain stoic himself.

For almost a year afterwards, he wrote her family weekly if not more often. Eventually, the letters became more and more spaced out as both of the grieving parties learned to get by without Bridget, but he never fell completely out of touch with them. Not even after he had married Irene. While a part of his heart would always belong to Bridget, it hadn't taken him long to fall in love with Irene. She was an amazing and understanding woman that truly helped Donald get through the after effects of the war.

 

* * *

 

There was a hint of gray starting to creep into his red hair when Donald Malarkey finally made it to her pure white cross in the Arlington Cemetery. He crouched down, shifted some of the flowers aside. She was still a hero to people, a legend it might be more apt to say. The woman who fought for the country and then died for peace. In the space he made, he set a fragment of a photograph against the cross. It so worn out from the years that what little had remained was all but gone now, but it was still clear in his mind. "I've held onto this since that winter." He spoke in a hushed tone, not sure how it would help being one of those people who spoke to the dead, but it was worth a shot. "It's all I really had of you. At least the only tangible thing." He let out a heavy breath and stared at his hands. "I'm finally... I'm finally letting myself let go though. I'll always love you, but I've got a new life now and I'm pretty happy with it." He looked over at where his family was waiting by the path, they knew he needed this moment alone. The sight of them made him smile. "I'm not sure if you would be proud of me or pissed that it's not you. Maybe a bit of both."  He chuckled softly as he turned back to the cross. "Though something tells me you'd be glad I actually moved on instead of grieving my entire life." He sighed and then pushed up to his feet.  "Sweetheart, come here." He finally said in a louder voice. His daughter moved off the path to stand by his side. "I thought you might like to see this." Don said, pointing at the engraving on the stone.

"Captain Bridget O'Carroll." The girl read out loud before looking up at her father.  "Is this who I'm named after?"

"Yes it is." He smiled as he set a hand on her shoulder.  "I'll have to tell you about her when we get home. For now... can I have a few more moments?" His daughter nodded and Malarkey gave her shoulder a light squeeze before she moved back to where the rest of the family was.

It wasn't much longer before he heard a familiar voice nearby. "Jesus Christ, Malarkey. I thought that was you." Malarkey looked over to see one Bill Guarnere making his way toward him, his weight heavily supported by two crutches tucked under his arms. "Age hasn't treated you so well, you know that."

 "And it's done nothing to make you less of an asshole, I see." Malarkey laughed as he moved in to wrap and arm around Bill. "I'm guessing  you're here for Bridget? Since it's the anniversary and all..." He asked in a quiet voice as he pulled back. Guarnere reached into his pocket and pulled out a full packet of Lucky Strikes cigarettes.

"She'd hate that I'm wasting them, but I quit anyway." Don took the packet from the man and placed it by the cross so that Guarnere wouldn't have to.  The two of them stood there quietly for a moment, both wrapped up in their own thoughts and memories, before Bill nodded back to Don's family. "That's a nice looking family you got there."

"I'm pretty fond of them." Malarkey responded with a soft laugh and the two of them started walking back toward the path. Don spared one last glance at the grave covered in flowers and a lone photograph and packet of cigarettes. Someday he would see her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say a final thank you for everyone who read this and commented! Also, I really hate writing final chapters so I'd like to apologize if it isn't as good as it should be, but again thank you very much for reading.


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